


The Makings of Greatness

by an_aphorism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Treasure Planet Fusion, Anal Sex, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Flirting, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Restraints, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Space Pirates, Spanking, Subdrop, Subspace, back with my brand: soft filth, sword fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 67,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/pseuds/an_aphorism
Summary: Keith, orphaned and living with the McClains, is given a mysterious map and warned to ‘beware the cyborg’.But what about when that cyborg is very, very hot?[a Treasure Planet sheith AU]





	1. Prologue

_“On the clearest of nights when the winds of the Etherium were calm and peaceful, the great merchant ships with their cargoes of Arcturian sura crystals felt safe and secure. Little did they suspect that they were pursued by pirates._ _The most feared of all these pirates was the notorious Captain Zarkon._

_Like a Candarian zap-wing overtaking its prey, Zarkon and his band of renegades swooped in out of nowhere and then, gathering up their spoils, vanished without a trace._

_Zarkon’s secret trove was never found but stories have persisted that it remains hidden somewhere at the farthest reaches of the galaxy, stowed with riches beyond imagination-- the loot of a thousand worlds._

_Treasure planet.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a fairly close adaptation of Treasure Planet starring our boy Keith, but you will not have to have watched it to understand this story. 
> 
> If you have watched it, please note I'm making a few changes so as to fit Keith and Shiro better. Also no death of 'Mr. Arrow'. There will be angst, but I have a happy ending guarantee. Tags to be added at the top of chapters for that E rating. 
> 
> There won't be daily updates, but I have little self control so updates will be often until this is finished.  
> On twitter @an_aphorism.


	2. The McClain Inn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags added: canon (minor) character death. also there's blood, but it's not graphic, I tagged graphic violence just to be safe as this is about pirates!

When the sound of a crash comes, Keith just sighs. The day had started brilliantly out on the solarsail, diving and whizzing through the mining area, but had quickly gone south. Cops. They were always tagging him for bullshit offenses.

When they'd dragged him home, Veronica had chewed him out for over an hour.

To top it all off, after Keith had taken his lickings and retreated up to the roof, he'd overheard Veronica and Lance talking. The words 'Correctional Hall' were thrown around.

It hurt to hear. Veronica was like a surrogate mother to him, and to hear her consider sending him off felt like a betrayal.

Except how could Keith really blame her? The McClain's had opened their house to him after his father died. They’d given him food and shelter, made sure he finished high school. Even now they employed him at their family inn. And what had Keith done to repay them but bring trouble to their doors time and time again?

He can’t explain to Lance or Veronica why he continues to act out like this. How his heart _yearned_ for the stars, for the epic tales his mother used to read to him as a child. He can't explain how this small and stuffy life was slowly strangling him to death.

Keith wasn’t stupid. He knew as an orphan his prospects for anything outside this inn were meager at best. It was why he couldn’t give up solarsurfing even when it came with consequences. It was the only thing that made the day after day bearable.

Lance was his best friend, but he just didn’t _get it_. Lance was goofy and likable, had always known he wanted to do, had always had a loving family and a ton of friends. He’d never been without, couldn’t relate to the gnawing hunger, the aching loneliness. Veronica was the same.

Keith is so, so grateful for everything they've done for him, it’s just—

Keith sighs and gets up from his sprawl on the roof when he hears the sound. Surely with the way his day is going, it's bound to be some fresh new hell.

He turns to look through the growing dark, searching for the location of the sound. It's quick to spot. Down the hill from the inn is a ship, crashed and smoldering.

_Shit!_

Keith slides down the roof without a second thought, dashing toward the ship. Clouds are gathering for rain which is good because the plume of smoke looks like it could catch at any moment.

The ship is an old junker, Keith can tell as he runs up. Most of it has sheered unrecognizably from its rough landing, but it has antique rudders and a silverspot finish. It’s a wonder it didn’t completely disintegrate upon impact.

Keith heads into the carnage, prying the closest door open. He hates smoke, hates fire, but he is his father’s son. If there’s even a chance the pilot is still alive, Keith can’t leave them to burn.

The ship is small and difficult to squeeze into. It takes more time than he wants to get between the crumpled metal and find the pilot.

It’s a Galra, huge and rough looking. The man is conscious but there's blood everywhere.

“Give me your hand!” Keith can feel the heat of the craft, can smell the rising scent of gasoline.

The man grunts and offers a large clawed hand. Keith grabs it and tugs, leverages his legs against the metal and pulls. It’s hard work but the adrenaline is singing in his veins. He needs to get this man out _now_ , before they’re both in trouble.

It happens quick, but it feels like ages. Keith gasps for fresh air as he clears the craft, lugging the Galra after him.

When they hit the ground Keith can see the man has a wooden chest clenched in the other hand.

“He’s a comin!” The man howls once he gets a breath of fresh air. “The gears, the whirlin’ can ye hear it?!”

Keith helps the man further from the craft. The Galra is heavy and dripping blood in a bad way, but he keeps hold of the chest. “It’s gonna be okay,” Keith says even though the way the man is rambling makes him doubt it. He’s got to get him back to the inn. Veronica will know what to do.

“That band of cutthroats, they’ll have to pry it outta ‘ol Ulaz’s cold dead hands!”

He must mean the chest. Keith agrees just to keep the man moving. It’s starting to rain now and the sounds from the burning ship is getting louder. They got out just in time.

It's a long way up the hill, but Keith does it. There’s no other choice. Everything is growing slick with water or blood, and if he stops now Keith's sure this man will just die here in the mud.

Veronica opens the door with a horrified gasp. “Keith!”

“He’s hurt, the ship crashed just downhill!”

Veronica’s expression melts from anger to concern, and she immediately springs forward to help him drag the Galra inside. She commands Lance to get the first aid supplies.

“It’s too late!” Ulaz bellows, collapsing between them. “The chest! Quick!”

He’s dropped it with the fall, so Keith pushes it over to him. The Galra reaches out with a bloody finger and types in the code. The chest unlocks.

“Take this, boy,” Ulaz says, shoving a bundle into his arms. Claws dig into Keith’s shirt, pulling him close. “And beware, he’s a comin’! Beware the cyborg!”

His eyes bore into Keith trying to convey the importance. All Keith can focus on is the blood and the sharp but desperate hold the man has on him. It terrifies him in a way few things have.

“Here, here!” Lance arrives then with towels and first aid. Veronica pulls the man off Keith, speaking in that soothing mom voice she has.

It doesn’t matter. A second later the Galra’s eyes roll back in his head, and he slumps onto the floor.

Lance and Veronica swoop in to tend to him.

It’s a tense couple of minutes as Veronica finds the wound punched through the mans chest by a metal piece from the ship. They can tell just looking at it that he's bled too much. Even if any of them had a medical degree, it would be a miracle to get the man back from such an injury.

They try their best, but before ten minutes have passed Ulaz is dead on the floor between them.

“Fuck,” Keith gets up on shaky legs. He’s covered in blood.

“It’s okay,” Veronica stands next. “It’s okay.” She tugs Lance up who looks on the verge of tears and wraps him up in her arms. “There was nothing we could do.”

Maybe that’s true, but it still feels like a failure. If only Keith were faster, stronger, maybe he could have—

“Keith,” Veronica has a hand out for him to pull him into their hug.

Keith looks at his hands covered in blood and knows he doesn’t deserve it. Can’t let himself—

“I’m going to go wash up.”

He turns on his heels and hurries out of the room. He can hear Veronica soothing Lance, and it _aches,_ but he knows it’s not his place. Keith’s brought heartache to their door once again, he doesn’t deserve the kindness.

In the bathroom he scrubs frantically at his skin, and then strips out of the soiled clothes. When he redresses it’s not for bed, but for going out. There’s an fervor starting to grow in the back of his head. An urge he feels helpless not to follow.

He puts on his flight jeans, boots, and favorite red jacket. From his closet he grabs his sling bag and puts his notebook, datapad, and knife in it. Then he remembers the bundle from Ulaz, and goes back to the bathroom to get it. He tucks that in the sack too and loops the bag over his head. He's ready.

Keith takes a shaky breath and looks to the window. It would be easy to scale down, he's done it a hundred times. Five minutes and he would be gone. Out of their hair.

A loud rumbling of engines cuts off his train of thought. Bright lights flare in through the window nearly blinding him.

“Pirates!” Lance screams from the floor below.

_What?!_

Keith dashes out of the room, and runs into Veronica and Lance coming up the stairs. They look look panicked and are still bloody from tending to Ulaz. From below comes the crashing of the door being blown in. “Pirates!” Veronica hisses, bowling into Keith and turning him back around. "Go!"

They go up to the third floor, locking doors and blocking passages as they go. Still the shouting of pirates nips at their heels.

In the far back bedroom Keith shuts the door behind them and works on barricading the door with the furniture. Lance goes to the window and flings it open. Rain pours in.

“We have to jump!” Lance says. He points out into the dark. “The skimmer is just down there!”

“Excuse me?!” Veronica shrieks. “We’re on the third floor!”

The shouting is growing closer now, followed by percussive sounds of things breaking.

“The gutter pipe,” Keith moves to the window beside Lance and… yes they’re on the right side. “We can shimmy down it. C’mon!”

He reaches for Veronica’s hand and tugs her to the window pointing out the metal pipe that runs down the house.

“Are you two crazy?!” Veronica is wild-eyed and breathing hard. She's starting to lose it.

They don’t have time to argue. “It’s this or the pirates, Lance!”

Lance and he make eye contact and Lance nod. A second later he is halfway out the window. Veronica hisses at him about safety, but they both ignore her. Sometimes it’s better just to act and force her hand.

Sure enough, as soon as Lance is on the drain pipe, Veronica gives up and starts out the window cursing the entire way.

Keith waits as long as he can, watching the door. The sounds grow closer and closer and Keith's nearly vibrating out of his skin by the time Lance is on the ground and Veronica is halfway down. Keith climbs out into the rain, and pulls the window closed behind him. It's practically second nature.

They’re all soaked and hands chafed when they make it into the skimmer, but they’re still alive.

Keith’s the best pilot, so no one argues when he starts up the engine and steers them away from the inn and the pirate ships. The rain masks the sound of their getaway, but Keith keeps watch for anyone following.

At a distance Keith can see when flames begin to flicker across the inn. Their home, burning to the ground as they flee.

The sound of Veronica sobbing haunts him the long drive toward the McClain’s family estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I promise this story isn't this grim, but I guess it does start kind of tragically.
> 
> Next time: But wait, what did Ulaz give Keith?


	3. A Golden Sphere

 It’s not until the next morning at the McClain family house that any of them even think about the bundle from Ulaz. They’re having a nearly silent breakfast when Lance tries to break the tension.

“What were they even after anyway? That Galra?”

Keith looks up from his uneaten toast to see Veronica staring at him. Her eyes are red and he can tell she’s slept just as much as he has.

He can’t help feeling this is all his fault.

Keith gets up to go to his bag on the couch and returns with the wrapped item. He hasn’t even had an opportunity to see what it is. Not that he should. He hands it off to Lance, it’s the very least he can do.

“It’s not your fault,” Veronica says to him, as if she can read his mind.

“Uh huh.”

Veronica frowns and then looks over at his bag. “Why—“

“Wow!” Lance has unwrapped the object to reveal a golden ball carved with asymmetrical symbols. “This looks like…” he turns it around in his hand. “I’ve seen something like this before…”

He manages to turn a few parts of it and hit some of the buttons, but it doesn’t do anything.

“Let me see,” Veronica says.

Lance hands it over with a thoughtful look. Then he picks up his datapad. “There’s something…”

“So this is what they wanted? What even is it, just some gold?” She knocks on its side and the sound is dull. It's solid.

“If it’s gold we could sell it,” Keith offers. Maybe it would be worth enough to rebuild the inn?

Veronica hands it over to him next. “Yeah maybe,” then she sighs. “Not looking forward to that conversation with Mom when she gets up.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith says. He’s staring down all the ball, turning it in his hands.

“It’s not your fault Keith," Veronica says. "You brought that man in to try and help him. Anyone would have.”

The kindness stings worse than her disappointment. Maybe she doesn’t blame him this time, but Keith does. Keith can see his track record. How all he brings is destruction.

“Yeah,” Lance pipes in. “It’s not your fault man.”

Keith twists at the sphere instead of responding. He can hear the clicking of gears, the shifting of pieces inside. It’s almost like a puzzle.

In his head something shifts. A puzzle. Yes. The anger and guilt fall away as he messes with the sphere. There’s something here. Something he knows. Something familiar in a way he can't pinpoint.

He begins to work at the sphere more diligently, focused on the clicking and patterns. His hands move faster than he even comprehends, as though his subconscious is bypassing him entirely to work on it. 

“Hah! Good luck with that,” Lance says putting down his datapad. “If it’s anything like a box codex it’ll take ages to decipher—“

And then the last circle clicks into place in Keith’s hand. The ball begins to glow.

“What the quiznak!” Lance jumps up from the table as light begins to spill from the sphere. Kaleidoscopic and beautiful, it weaves out like a stream of water into the space around them.

Veronica curses. The room fills with a projection of stars and planets. Whole galaxies. They stare in awe.

“It’s a…”

“A map! That’s Earth!” Lance cuts his sister off. “And there’s the spaceport, and Olkarion, Arus, Krell!” Lance hops over to each, pointing them out and although they aren't named on the projection they're recognizable.

Lance leads them across the projected space, following the mapped arrow. They walk through planets that Keith doesn’t know but Lance ticks off diligently. It's amazing the scale, how Lance can reach up and pinch the projection to shift it or zoom in. They do so to cover the distance of the map, Lance talking mostly to himself as he messes with it. And then—

“That’s… wait. That’s impossible!” Lance pauses when they get to the end. When they get to the destination the map is indicating. Lance zooms in on a cratered, dark planet.

It is impossible. Keith can hardly breath for the shock. It can't possibly be that. It can't possibly be what he thinks it is.

“What?” Veronica asks, staring up at the glowing planet. “What is that?”

“It’s…” Lance sounds just as awestruck.

“Daibazaal,” Keith says.

Impossible.

 ##

The discussion that follows rapidly dissolves into bickering and yelling between the two siblings, and eventually draws Lance and Veronica’s mother out of bed.Veronica is quick to take her mother to another room to break the news of the inn. Keith closes up the map as Lance scoots a chair up beside Keith.

“We have to!” Lance says.

“Yeah,” Keith says. The map is in his hands, he can’t put it down.

“I can’t believe it’s real!”

Keith can’t either. He keeps running his fingers over the sphere just to remind himself. For the first time in a long time there's a spark inside his chest. A lightness that promises hope. 

Keith knows how dangerous that can be. How sometimes hope is even worse than tragedy for the way it hurt. How it can give just to take away.

But a part of him can't help but fantasize on the opportunity. He's brought so much grief to Lance and Veronica, and if he could just find Zarkon’s treasure…

They’d never need for anything ever again. He could make up for all the heartache and troubles he’s caused. Money doesn't buy happiness, but it sure as hell could buy a lot of thing they need to get there. Maybe it's worth the risk of hoping.

Veronica has been arguing against it, of course, because it's dangerous. They're hunting treasure, likely right beneath pirate noses, so it's not even a hypothetical danger. But that matters little to Keith. His life has been full of dangers and none of them have promised even a fraction of this reward. For the McClain's he would go to the ends of space itself, it's not even a debate. The need to prove he’s more than just a delinquent is all encompassing.

“I’ll convince her,” Lance is saying. He bumps Keith with his shoulder. “You know I have to pick a dissertation topic soon. I could do it on Daibazaal, it would give me an excuse to spend the money.”

“What?”

Lance shrugs. “Well we need a ship, a real ship.”

Caught in the fantasy of it, Keith hadn’t even considered the practicality. They do need a ship. Fuck.

“I’ve got a bit of savings from the inn, I was planning on using it for research, so this is kind of perfect.”

It sounds like a lie. “Lance you can’t,” Keith says.

“Of course I can. It’s my money, I can do whatever I want.”

“But what if—“

“Oh, don’t get all Mother Veronica on me now Keith. Where’s that sense of adventure?” Lance grins.

The irony is not lost on Keith. He's usually the one to run headfirst into danger, dragging Lance along. He isn't the person to argue Veronica's position of safety and patience. But right now the insidious fear sits fresh in the bottom of his belly. He'll never be able to unsee the inn burning, never be able to separate his decision to help that man from the effect on his loved ones. Keith wants to be as headstrong as Lance right now, but he worries as high as the hope goes, so does the fall.

He believes Daibazaal is out there, but the fear asks him, _what if it isn’t?_

“Look,” Lance leans over to snatch the map out of Keith’s hands. “If this quest doesn’t pay out, then I’ll just study this map for my dissertation, and we can sell it to make back the cost of the trip.”

“But what about the inn?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Veronica’s got it. We’re insured.”

“You are?” It hadn’t occurred to Keith.

“Duh," Lance gives him a look like he's an idiot. "You think Veronica, Queen of Backup Plans, didn’t think about insuring the inn?”

In retrospect that does seem foolish. Of course the inn was insured. “Oh.” The knowledge does a lot to alleviate his worries. Not _everything_ was lost.

Lance hands the map back. “Yeah, so quit moping.”

“I’m not.”

“You totally are,” Lance gets up to start the dishes. “And it’s bringing the mood down. Bad stuff happens Keith, no one here blames you for it.”

“But I—“

“No.” Lance cuts him off, pointing a spatula at him. “You helped a man in need, and you got us possibly the greatest archaeological find of the modern era. Neither of those things require an apology.”

It’s impossible to argue with Lance when he’s like this, so Keith just shuts up. Lance turns back to start the dishes.

“And just leave Veronica to me, I’ve got it all planned out.”

 ##

 It takes two days of talking and planning and Lance withdrawing his money from savings, but he does indeed make it happen. Veronica voices her displeasure at every opportunity, but Keith and Lance are adults and she can do little to stop either of them. Apparently their mother had even taken Lance's side when it all had been explained to her. Keith hadn't been present for that conversation, but he wished he had been just to see Veronica's face.

They get to the spaceport shuttle stop early in the morning with just their bags. Everything else has been ordered or sent ahead to their ship. 

On the platform Veronica pulls them both into a tight hug. “Be careful please!”

“We will,” Lance says.

“Of course.” Keith agrees.

“I love you two idiots, but so help me if anything happens to either one of you I will come up there and kill you myself.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Lance says, and then yelps when Veronica tugs his ear.

She pulls back and then drags Keith off to the side. He almost expects it, since she’s been dragging Lance off the last couple of days to give him talkings to.

“It’ll be fine,” Keith says.

“It will,” Veronica says. “Just…” She tightens her grip on his hands, “watch out for each other, okay?”

Keith nods, tries his hardest to maintain the eye contact. “I’ve got him,” he says, and means it.

“I know you do. But I want you back too, okay? You’re mine just as much as Lance is.”

With this she pulls him in for a crushing hug. Keith swallows around the knot in his throat and squeezes her back. He doesn’t know how he can possibly deserve people as good as Lance and Veronica. He wants desperately to be worth it.

“Okay?” She asks before letting him go.

“Okay,” Keith vows.

When the shuttle arrives, he and Lance board quickly and find their seats. Through the glass they wave a tearful goodbye to Veronica until the speaker in the cabin demands that all passengers be seated and fasten their seat belts. Lance looks at him grinning and nervous as the shuttle pulls out of the station. Keith does his best to return the smile.

Then they’re off to space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love a found family ya'll.
> 
> Next time: we meet the crew and both boys are A Mess(TM).


	4. Castle of Lions

The spaceport is bright and bustling when they arrive. Keith’s only ever seen it via screen, so he stops as they clear customs to take it all in.

Built like a crescent moon, the satellite is huge and modern, but the architecture is reminiscent enough of Earth sailing ports to feel comfortable. All around them there are ships taking off and landing, crates and cargo being loaded and unloaded. The satellite has its own gravity and atmosphere, so there are spacegulls cawing and swooping through the sky like their earth-born cousins.  Once in a while someone in the crowd gets their food snatched right out of their fingers.

Keith can’t help but feel awed by it. A little giddy. He has always wanted to travel to space, but there's a lot of distance between fantasy and reality. He hadn’t actually thought about what it would be like to be here.

And now they’re strolling through, the spaceport just a brief stop on their journey to greater places.

 Lance has already made the arrangements for the captain, crew, and the ship. They just have to locate them in the busy port. They try asking a few strangers after ten minutes of wandering around, but Keith’s Galra is poor and Lance knows more about ancient dead languages than alive ones, so it’s a trial. Eventually they find someone that speaks enough of the common tongue to point them in the right direction.

“There she is!” Lance exclaims as they come to the end of one of the docks. “The Castle Of Lions!”

He points up to a magnificent ship, a sleek beauty of light wood and white sails.  It's reminiscent of sea ships on Earth, except for the way it hovers there.

“Lance,” Keith can barely get a word out for the shock. There’s ships and then there’s _ships,_ and Keith knows a pricey ride when he sees one.

“It’s long term rental,” Lance adds, “so don’t freak out.”

It’s hard not to freak out. Even in his wildest dreams Keith wouldn’t have imagined a voyage on a ship like this. “Stars, you’re out of your mind.” Keith grins and starts quickly toward the ship. Lance laughs, hurrying on his heels.

“I thought we should ride in style.”

They weave around the dock workers loading their cargo. Keith heads immediately for the gangplank, his excitement getting the better of him.

“The Castle Of Lions, eh?” He calls back when he sees the name of it scrolled across the side.

“It’s a little cat themed,” Lance says as they start up the gangplank. “Which you will get over once you see how fast she goes.”

Of that Keith has no doubt. She could be named Moist Crab Cakes, and she’d still be the most amazing ship Keith has ever seen.

It’s loud as they near the deck. The crew is negotiating loading, preparing for launch. Lance shoves his bag on Keith and starts toward a large man in a dignified yellow coat who is shouting orders.

“Good morning Captain!” Lance greets, holding his hand out.

“Good morning,” the man is human, but just as big as most of the Galra crew. He’s dark skinned and is wearing a yellow headband that matches his coat. “But I am not the captain, the captain is aloft.” He grins and points up. They both look.

Above them is a striking woman walking the stay, perfectly poised and balanced. She turns to look down at them, a braid of pure white hair falling over her shoulder. The man in the yellow coat makes a hand signal at her which she nods at.

As graceful as any feline, the woman snatches up a nearby rope and swings down from the sails to land before them on the deck. She pats down her pink captain’s coat, although not a bit of it has fallen out of place.

“Hunk, the ship is looking spot on as usual, it’s exemplary work.”

The man in the yellow coat, Hunk, grins and inclines his head. “Thank you captain.”

“Ah,” the woman then moves past Hunk to Lance who is standing there gobsmacked. “You must be Mr. McClain.” She holds out her hand.

Keith can practically see Lance's heart-eyes. He jabs a discreet elbow into Lance’s side.

“Ow! Yes! Uh, Lance. You can call me Lance.” His cheeks are pink and getting worse by the minute. Keith almost laughs.

“Captain Allura. And you’ve already met my first officer Mr. Hunk Garrett.” Hunk smiles behind her.

“And I’m Keith,” Keith says, stepping up because he’s unlikely to get an introduction via Lance. “Keith Kogane.”

Captain Allura shakes his hand, aiming one of those smiles in his direction.

And okay, he should give Lance some slack because Keith isn’t even _into_ that and wow. She’s… like a real life princess. A princess captain. Is that a thing?

“Keith’s my best friend." Lance says all of a sudden. "We’ve been together forever. Uh--  but not like that! As friends, like brothers. Since we were kids. Actually, he’s the one that figured out the map—“ Lance begins to babble because he’s nervous and he’s never met a silence he didn’t love to fill.

The captain steps forward and puts her hand on Lance’s mouth to silence him. “Mr. McClain! A word in my stateroom, if you will.”

It’s more than enough to stop him right in his tracks. Lance nods readily, although Keith would put coin on it that Lance doesn't even know what she just said.

The four of them retreat into the captain’s quarters.

Below deck is quiet and empty for now. Allura takes them to a large and grandly decorated room. It's a captain’s quarters if Keith’s ever seen one.

“Now Mr. McClain,” Allura says after snapping the lock on the door.

“Lance,” Lance corrects.

Allura turns with a shrewd look to stare him down. “Lance.” She stalks over to the cartography table in the center of the room where Hunk is standing at parade rest. She considered the screens there. “I understand the sensitivity of this voyage, but I must say I don’t much care for this… crew you’ve hired. I’ve never met an honorable Galra, and frankly I don’t believe this trip will be where we break that streak. So perhaps,” at this she turns sharp to face Lance once more, “you should be a bit more discreet about the map.”

She walks toward them once more and holds out her hand. “May I see it?”

Keith glances at Lance who’s still too star struck to do much more than stutter his somewhat offended compliance. Keith grabs the sphere from his bag and tosses it to Allura.

She catches it easily with one hand and looks it over. “Hm. It is beautiful.” Then she walks over to the wall and puts her hand on the scanner to open a hidden closet. “Better if we keep it in here when not in use,” she dictates, setting the map onto one of the shelves.

“Hey!”

Allura shuts the closet and turns a cool eye on Keith. “That’s captain or ma’am to you Mr. Kogane. You have entrusted myself and Hunk to get you to your destination safely, I intend to do so. That requires some compromise.”

“But—“ Keith wants the map with him.

“It’s fine.” Lance steps in finally, putting a hand on Keith's shoulder. “The captain’s right.”

Keith rolls his eyes. He wishes he were at all surprised by Lance's shifting alliance. All it takes is one pretty girl and all his better sense goes right out the window.

“Thank you Lance,” Allura nods in his direction and Lance beams. “Now as I understand it, you’ll be working on your doctorate work on this trip?”

“Y—Yes. On Daibazaal.”

“Very good, then as scientist and financier, you will be excused from the crew work.” Allura’s eyes cast skeptically over Keith and he bristles in response. The shine has fully worn off for Keith now, and he can see Allura for what she really is: a hard ass militant type.

Admirable in a captain, but annoying to Keith. He doesn’t do well with authority figures who like to order him around.

“Mr. Kogane though,” she continues as if his glare doesn’t phase her in the slightest. “I think we should match him with the cook, Mr. Shirogane. Hunk?”

Hunk is still at attention, looking too cheery for how Keith now feels. “A fine idea, captain.”

“Excellent, escort them back to the galley. We have a launch soon, so make sure Mr. Kogane finds his new post.” Allura smiles at them, and then turns to look over the data screens once again.

They follow Hunk out, Keith steaming and Lance mooning.

“I don’t know who she thinks she is," Keith grits out as soon as they're out of earshot. "It’s my— our map, I shouldn’t be bussing tables. If I wanted to do that I would have stayed on Earth— oh!”

Hunk wraps a massive arm around his shoulders all of a sudden, friendly and also vaguely threatening. “Now, now,” his voice is deep and the most serious Keith’s heard out of him so far. “the captain is a fine woman, so I don’t want to hear a word against her, hm?”

Hunks muscles are huge, so there’s little arguing with them. Keith nods meekly. He feels himself flush from being reprimanded like a child.

“Good, great. It’s important we all pull our weight on the ship Mr. Kogane.”

“Keith,” Keith says because he’s sick of the formal address.

Hunk smiles and lets him go. “Keith. Just think of it as part of the process.”

Keith huffs instead of agreeing with him. He hates feeling like he's being managed. Hates that he's being relegated to ship crew when Lance isn't. He was the one that figured out the map!

Hunk takes his silence well enough, leading them down into the bowels of the ship. “So down here is the kitchen,” he says as they come into an open sort of space packed with cooking supplies and crates of food. “And this,” Hunk gestured to the man in the room who’s chopping vegetables at the large central countertop, “is Mr. Shirogane.”

“Oh Hunk, call me Shiro, please.” The man puts down his cleaver and turns to them with a handsome face and an extended hand.

A robotic hand.

It catches Keith off guard.

The rest of him looks human, distractingly handsome— _human_ , but the warning comes back to Keith.

_Beware the cyborg._

Could this be who the Galra meant?

“Lance,” Lance says, stepping forward to shake the mans hand.

“The financier of this voyage,” Hunk adds.

“Aw, gee,” Shiro steps back and messes with the apron that is straining against his broad, muscular chest. “Apologies for the state of the place, would’ve had it tidier if I knew you all were coming by.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, a kitchen is meant to be used.” Hunk says and then gestures at Keith. “And this is his friend Mr. Kogane.”

“Keith,” Keith says and offers his hand. Shiro’s robotic one nearly covers his, the grip strong and firm.

Keith doesn’t mean to stare, but with a jawline like _that_ —

He could kick himself. That’s _not_ the point. He was _just_ warned about a cyborg, and now he's acting just as foolish as Lance was ten minutes ago. Keith makes himself look away from Shiro’s face to focus on that arm.

Shiro smiles and then steps back, taking himself back to the work station. “Ah, don’t let this hardware put you off,” he says starting to chop vegetables again this time with his hand because is has transformed into a knife. “It's useful, especially in the kitchen.”

To illustrate, he moves through cracking several eggs, grating a slab of cheese, and then whisking it all together in a bowl. Every time his arm transforms into the tool he needs, he never so much as reaches for a kitchen instrument.

Lance makes an impressed sound. All Keith can think of is how that arm can just as easily be used as a weapon. That all the strength of those rippling muscles can just as easily be used to subdue any opponent. Could pin them to the wall and—

His brain veers onto a very different path. A completely inappropriate, x-rated path.

_Fuck._

“Finely done,” Hunk compliments Shiro when the omelette goes into the pan. Keith tries to refocus on the conversation. “Now I must get back to the captain, we’ll be launching soon. Mr. Kogane is your new charge Shiro, captain’s orders.”

At this Shiro’s smile slips and he turns away from the food. “Wait, what? My charge? But—“

“Captain’s orders.” Hunk clips, already heading for the stairs. “Come along Lance, best we let these two settle in.”

Keith wants to protest, but then he sees how much Shiro’s face has clouded, and he thinks better of it. Shiro clearly doesn’t want him here, and Keith finds that suspicious. Makes him think that it _would_ be a good idea to keep a close eye on the cook.

And being underfoot gives Keith a prime opportunity to do just that.

“Okay, see you later Keith!” Lance waves at him, and Keith tries to communicate all of that silently. It’s no good though, he hasn’t mentioned the warning about the cyborg to Lance, and now it's a little too late.

“See you,” he says.

Lance follows Hunk out, and then Keith is alone with the cyborg. He sighs.

“So, ah. Captain put you with me, eh?” Shiro’s finishing up the omelette now, his cheerful disposition fully restored.

Keith doesn’t trust it for a second. “Uh huh.”

Shiro reaches for a plate, eased by an extended reach with the robotic arm. The omelette slides on nice and easy, it smells amazing. Keith creeps closer, he’d been so nervous about the morning he had skipped breakfast. Now the hunger is catching up to him.

“Split with me?” Shiro offers, another plate appearing out of thin air.

Now that he’s closer, Keith can see it’s not an omelette at all, but a harktom— a Galran recipe.

“Make a lot of Galra cuisine?”

Shiro shrugs, “A lot of Galra across the universe, it’s good to know what they'll eat.”

Keith takes one of the empty chairs at the counter and nods for Shiro to split the harktom. “Not a lot of them on Earth though,” he takes the offered plate and fork. The harktom when he puts it in his mouth is… good. Really good.

He takes another bite and has to tamp down on the sound of pleasure as it hits his tastebuds. Shiro grins anyway.

“Good?”

“Passable.” Keith puts another forkful in his mouth. “You know,” he says through a mouthful of food, “ I did meet this one Galra though, just before I left. He was looking for a cyborg buddy of his.”

Keith is watching him right back, so he sees Shiro look down and away. “Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh.”

“What was his name?”

Keith stabs his fork into the last bite and then does an approximation of thinking about the name. “I think it was Ulaz.”

He watches, but Shiro’s face doesn’t move an inch as he eats. “Hm,” he says after he swallows, “Doesn’t ring a bell.” If he's acting, it's a hell of a performance.

A loud pop and flash of light startles Keith from further interrogation. He nearly falls off his chair as a large blue wolf appears between them.

“Ah, Kosmo!” Shiro greets. “Little late for the food .” Then he must catch Keith’s face because he chuckles. “You scared our guest, buddy. Keith, this is Kosmo, Kosmo, Keith.”

Keith stares. "What is it?"

"A cosmic wolf. He and I met a year or two back near the Svertvik Abyss, been together ever since. "

The animal does look like an Earth wolf, just blue and overgrown. “A cosmic wolf?”

Shiro shrugs, turning back to the cupboard. “Truth be told I don’t really know his exact species, but he can teleport, and I thought the light of it looked cool, so I just made up a name. Works for us, right buddy?”

And that’s… not exactly what Keith was expecting. Could this really be the fearsome cyborg Keith is supposed to be watching out for? It's hard to imagine, watching Shiro hum his way through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients.

The wolf wanders over to sniff Keith while Shiro starts preparing the food. Keith holds his hand out steady until he’s passed inspection, and the wolf pushes his face into Keith’s palm for pets.

The wolf is… really cute. Keith finds a spot behind his ear that he really likes having scratched, and Kosmo almost gets in his lap to get more.

“Alright Kosmo,” Shiro says a minute later, carrying over a large bowl of some mushy brown chow. “Breakfast is served!”

He puts it down with a flourish and Kosmo abandons Keith's lap to start gobbling it down. Shiro beams like a proud father.

Keith feels his heart stutter.

This is… _really, really_ not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's most of the cast, phew! Pidge is in this story, but she comes much later.
> 
> Next time: Let's get this ship into open space, shall we?


	5. Liftoff

Shiro waves him off when the ship begins to launch. He’s doing inventory and prep for dinner, so Keith sees no reason to stick around. Quickly he dips into the sleeping quarters and drops his and Lance's bags onto two of the empty hammocks.

Kosmo follows him and Keith can't help but reach for the wolf to scratch that spot he likes again. "Ready for launch?" He asks Kosmo as they turn and head up out of the ship bowels. The wolf doesn't respond but stays close, particularly close to Keith's hand just in case.

On deck is organized chaos. Captain Allura shouts orders which are then allocated to crew by Hunk, and the Galra follow through seamlessly. All the anchors come up, the solar sails are let down, and the hum of the engines begins to get louder.

Keith heads for the railing of the ship so he can watch.

“Atmosphere online, how’re the engines Hunk?”

“Ready to go captain.”

“Aye. Then brace yourselves now,” at this she stops and turns to Lance who is at her side like an overexcited puppy. “That means you,” Keith is close enough to hear that directed at him.

Lance makes some remark, leaning too casually on the rail beside him. Keith grabs his own railing just in time for the ship to jerk forward and out of the port.

He tries not to laugh when Lance falls flat on his face. The captain at least finds this funny rather than pathetic, because she can’t cover a smile fast enough.

“Steady us at 200 vergs,” she says to Hunk, and then offers Lance a hand up.

Keith turns away to watch the sails fill. Patterned like honeycomb, they glitter as the energy runs through them. It’s the same way his solar sail back home runs, but infinitely more impressive on this scale.

Then the ship is off, rushing out toward the stars and away from the light of the spaceport. All around Keith the lights come on to compensate for the blackness of space. Crew move around adjusting things as the captain commands. Everyone is high energy, excited to be on their way.

Keith wanders the ship, keeping out of the way but getting the lay of it. Several of the Galra eye him, but they’re too busy with work to engage with him and Keith’s fine with that.

He’s never had much interaction with Galra before, but like Allura said the rumors about them aren’t great. Likely Lance spent all the money on the ship and the captain, and so they ended up with a cheaper crew. A Galra crew.

As they set on a steady course, the ship quiets and the excitement begins to fizzle out. Eventually not everyone is needed on the top deck and many of the Galra disappear into the belly for a meal, or start chatting amongst themselves. Keith takes a seat up on the ledge, leaning against a crate to watch the stars pass by.

It’s beautiful. Mostly black and pinpricked with stars, Keith finds it to be completely different beyond Earth's atmosphere. Out here he can actually feel the solar winds ripple through the ship and blow through his hair. Speaking of, he gets an elastic from his pocket to tie back his hair.

Sitting there Keith begins to feel a stillness settle into him. It’s a calm sort of contentness, like this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He's never felt anything like it.

It’s so strange and pleasant that he just stays there while the rest of the crew take shifts for a meal. The sounds from the ship all fade like background noise as Keith sinks into himself.

At some point Kosmo, who had wandered off, pops back beside him. He curls up beside Keith with his head in Keith’s lap so Keith can card through the soft fur. It’s relaxing and Keith feels all the anxieties of the day fall off him. He’s not dozing but it feels like that, the warm heat of Kosmo warding off the chill of the solar winds.

“You know,” Shiro says, appearing beside him and jerking Keith out of his stupor, “when I sent you off it was just for the launch, you’re actually supposed to report back. Captain’s orders, did you forget?”

Keith rolls his eyes as the wolf readjusts to get his rump in Shiro's lap. “I didn’t forget.”

Shiro hums and then pets Kosmo. “But of course I’d find you two slacking off not hours into launch. Typical.”

“Typical?” Keith says, affronted enough to look at Shiro finally. “You don’t even know me.”

Shiro smiles but it’s a little cocky. “I know your type.”

Keith frowns, already he’s bristling from Shiro’s comments. There’s something about the man that just gets right in under his skin. “Oh, do you?”

Shiro leans back, casting his gaze out to the stars. “Sure. Hot-headed troublemaker, runs right toward a bad decision without a moment’s consideration.”

Keith scoffs even as his neck flushes hot. “And what does that make you? The stuffy old authority figure?”

At this Shiro laughs, a full-bellied authentic sound. The lines at the corner of his eyes crinkle and it’s cut—

 _Beware the cyborg,_ Keith reminds himself, _beware the cyborg_. Likely this man is some kind of nefarious space pirate. Maybe even the one that set fire to the inn. Keith needs to focus on that and not how attractive Shiro is.

“If you knew me at all growing up you’d know how funny that is,” Shiro says, sliding Kosmo off his lap to get up. “But for now, sure. You think I’m stuffy and authoritarian? I can be stuffy and authoritarian.”

“And old,” Keith snarks.

“Alright up! Come on!” Shiro’s tone is markedly colder now as he looms over Keith. Something in Keith’s belly swoops, and he doesn’t know why.

Maybe it’s the tone, spoken like Shiro demands to be obeyed. Like he expects it.

Even Kosmo pops up onto his paws, watching his master with keen attention.

Defiantly, Keith takes his time getting up and following Shiro. They go back into the bowels of the ship to a closet with cleaning supplies.

“Your new friends,” Shiro says with false grandeur and a smug smile. “Might wanna start with mop and bucket, the deck is looking grimy after all the loading.” Shiro shoves the old mop into Keith’s hands, and Keith makes sure to give him his most sour look.

“Well don’t just stand there boy, time to earn your keep.” Shiro turns to leave. “When you’re finished,” he says as he goes, “come find me in the kitchen so I can inspect your work.”

It's said as if Keith were a wayward child who needs oversight. Keith grits his teeth. “I know how to mop a floor!”

There's a sarcastic laugh from Shiro on the stairs. “We’ll see!”

Keith spits a mouthful of curses but the other man is already gone. He casts a dirty look at Kosmo, who is just standing there watching him.

“What?” He says, and then aggressively grabs for the rest of the cleaning supplies he’ll need on deck.

It takes a while to mop between the size of the deck and having to change out the water, but it ends up being a blessing. Keith works out his anger on the flooring and by the time he’s finishing up he’s exhausted but calm.

He dumps the last of the dirty water with a satisfied sigh. He has to remember what this trip is about, how important that it is he stay in control and do his part to find Daibazaal. There’s an entire file of his fuckups on Earth, and this is Keith’s opportunity to change it. His opportunity to do right by the McClains.

He can’t afford to let some brutish, jerky cyborg pull him off task.

After Keith puts the cleaning supplies away Kosmo reappears.

“Hey Kosmo,” He pets the wolf’s head. “Sorry for being grumpy before.”

Kosmo licks his hand as if forgiving him, and then suddenly they’re encompassed in light.

Keith stumbles when they reappear, and almost hits his elbow on the doorway. “Fuck, fuck, what the fuck!” It feels like he’s just gotten off a tilt-o-whirl, his stomach churning and his head all turned around.

“Oh that takes some getting used to,” Shiro says. “Kosmo you’ve got to give a kit some warning.”

Keith manages to keep his feet, and he notices that he's now in the kitchen. A second ago they’d been across the ship in the cleaning supply closet. Kosmo teleported them.

 The wolf leaves his side to go and settle in a dog bed tucked into the corner. The animal looks entirely unconcerned that Keith has just had his entire world shaken.

It’s one thing to know a creature can teleport, and another to _be_ teleported.

“Hey, woah, it’s okay,” Keith tries to walk but he’s still unsteady, and Shiro appears at his side to support him. He helps Keith over to one of the low stools.

Keith stares down at the metal arm he’s clamped down on tightly. Even when Shiro’s got him seated he doesn’t let it go.

Shiro’s dressed down this evening in a black vest that bares his arms and hides none of the prosthetic. For the first time Keith can see the arm in its totality and he comes to a startling conclusion: the purple energy source at the upper arm connection is Galran.

Shiro has a Galran prosthetic.

“Breathe, just sit tight,” Shiro is saying, carefully pulling his arm away. Keith lets it go but continues to stare at the space where it was.

No human would choose a Galra prosthetic. Doing so would immediately mark the wearer as outcast or pirate. Someone to be avoided or to fear. There's no reason to do so, the human ones on Earth are just as good. So why would...?

Keith looks up just as heavy footsteps come back toward him. A bowl is placed into his hands.

“Gee Tin,” Shiro says, “good for dizziness, nausea.”

“I’m fine,” Keith says even as he’s raising a spoon to his mouth. He did, after all, skip dinner.

“Then taste test for me.”

Keith’s confused, he’s so confused. One second Shiro is a raging asshole, and the next he’s crouched beside Keith like a tender caretaker. He sips the soup because he doesn’t know what else to do.

It’s good. The warmth seems to help settle him.

“I finished the deck,” Keith says after slurping some more down.

“Good,” Shiro says. “How’s the soup?”

“Good,” Keith says.

Shiro gets back up and walks back to the stove where a large pot is brewing. “It’s breakfast,” he says, turning off the stove. “Reheats well and is high in energy.”

Keith hums in acknowledgment. He finishes his soup.

“Do you think you can stand now?” Shiro asks when he comes back for the empty bowl.

Keith has half a mind to make a nasty comment, but the room is so quiet and it feels wrong to ruin it. “I think,” he says.

Shiro stands nearby, but doesn’t insult him by hovering when Keith gets to his feet. “I’m good,” Keith adds.

“Cool.” Shiro’s turns back to rinse the bowl and stack it on the rest of the cleaned cutlery. “Well it’s late, you better get to bed, mornings on the ship are early.”

Keith nods, heading for the door and then remembers, “hey what about checking over my work?”

Shiro isn’t facing him, but Keith can catch a sliver of a smile in the dimmed kitchen lights. “I’m sure you did fine. Goodnight Keith.”

“Goodnight,” Keith says.

The ship is a near skeleton crew on his walk back to the sleeping quarters, and when he gets there nearly every hammock and bunk is occupied.

In the back corner Keith finds Lance’s snoozing in the hammock above his. Lance is snoring, gangly legs hanging out the edges. Keith moves his bag out of his hammock and settles down into it.

He sighs, happy to be finished with the day, happy to be able to rest and start the next one fresh.

Still, as he floats toward sleep the question comes back to him: why does Shiro have a Galran arm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's fanlore that Shiro can't cook, but this is an AU so don't @ me.
> 
> Next time: Keith never met a fight he didn't wanna pick.


	6. Rock, Paper, Scissors

 Keith thinks it over the next day, but comes to no great insight. The only thing he does keep circling is that if Shiro _is_ the cyborg Ulaz warned him about, he’s doing a terrible job hiding himself.

In fact he’s so suspicious that Keith begins to doubt the theory all together. It’s as if Shiro is wearing a neon sign at all times saying GALRA CYBORG PIRATE, and how could _anyone_ be nefarious and that obvious? It doesn’t make any sense.

Keith's relaxing suspicions do not, however, extend to the rest of the crew. Over the next few days Keith continues to find the Galra… unpleasant.

Working as cabin boy, Keith has to work closely with them, and every interaction rubs him the wrong way. It’s different from the ones with Shiro. For all of Shiro’s frustrating militant delegating, there’s a feeling of sport to it. Like he and Shiro are sparring to best each other, snipping until one of them cracks or folds.

With the Galra it’s just straight up animosity. The Galra stare and bare their teeth, and on more than one occasion switch to speaking Galran right in front of him _about him._

And yeah, Keith maybe doesn’t know that for sure, but he has a feeling. He hates it.

Hates the Galra.

On the third day he catches Lance and tries to have a conversation on this, but the other boy is useless. He’s got a stack of work in arm and immediately begins to jabber on a mile a minute about the readings he’s already getting from just being in space, and how amazing the experience is going to be for his research, and how Allura let him work in her cabin and—

Keith kind of tunes out after that. Lance is a dead end when he’s like this. And anyway, Keith thinks to himself, spying and secrecy isn’t really Lance’s thing. Maybe Keith should tackle this one alone.

They part when Allura appears on deck, Lance rushing to her side like a lovesick puppy.

Keith rolls his eyes and gets back to peeling potatoes with a kitchen knife.

Technically he should be doing this down in the kitchen where Shiro left him, but it’s hard not to want to be up on the deck where all the action is. Where Keith can post up in a corner and peel potatoes while looking out at the stars.

The only downside is the group of Galra nearby. They’re playing some game of cards and dice in the downtime. There’s been a lot of that the last few days with smooth sailing conditions. Keith knows he shouldn’t, but occasionally he tries to discreetly watch.

They’ve sworn to Hunk it’s not a gambling game, because those sort of games aren’t permitted on the ship, but Keith’s seen coin and trinkets exchanged. It’s definitely a gambling game.

Not that Keith would rat them out. He may not _like_ them, but he knows when to stay in his lane. Really he’s just curious to know how the game works.

“What you lookin' at kit?” One of the Galra turns to snarl at him. The man is large and has a metal arm like Shiro but also has a glowing robotic eye.

Keith flicks the potato skin off the edge of his knife and into the discard pot. “Nothin,” he says.

The Galra sneers and slides his cards off the table and into his pocket. “Cabin boys should learn to mind their own business.” The other Galra snicker, grinning fiendishly at him.

“Why?" Keith says, "You got somethin' to hide bright eyes?”

Before Keith can even think to get the knife up between them, the Galra is on him. One huge claw lifts him up against the mast until he can't touch the floor. The knife is pried from his hand and cast away.

“Perhaps your ears don’t work so well,” the man spits.

Keith wrinkles his nose at the foul smell that comes off him. “Too bad my nose works just fine—“

“You little shit!” The Galra tugs him forward just to slam him back into the mast. The crowd around them grows excited, cheering for a fight.

Keith’s eyes dart around but the knife is gone, and there’s no backup, and he’s chosen the back of the ship to peel potatoes, far away from Allura and any help. He curses himself and his big mouth.

“Any last words, kit?” The man brings that metal arm up, and it’s now transformed into some kind of neon purple energy sword. Keith swallows thick but refuses to give them the satisfaction of seeing his fear.

He opens his mouth to go down howling every nasty curse he can think of—

But then Shiro is there, parting the crowd and clamping his metal arm right down on the Galra’s energy sword.

“Ah, Sendak,” Shiro says with faux cheerfulness. There’s a mumbling around them, an awe at Shiro just holding the sword without it sheering straight through him. “You know we have this game on Earth, it’s called Rock, Paper, Scissors. A kids game, but it does teach a valuable lesson…” At this Shiro’s metal hand slides up the blade and jams into the energy source for the weapon, shorting it out. “No matter how great your rock, paper, or scissor, there’s always someone with your weakness. Someone who can crush you,” the metal at the end of Sendak’s arm groans, “if you get a little too cocky.”

Sendak hisses in pain and let’s go of Keith to back up and pull away from Shiro. Shiro lets him go easily, a placid smile on his face.

“What’s all this then?” Hunks voice comes heavy through the crowd. The rest of the dice and cards disappear and all the Galra begin to disburse. “You know the rules, no brawling on the ship.”

“Just a little misunderstanding,” Shiro says, never taking his eyes off Sendak.

Sendak is barely covering a snarl, and he looks murderously back at Shiro.

“Uh huh. A misunderstanding,” Hunk looks between the three of them, his eyes lingering on Keith. Keith knows he has huge claw marks on the front of his shirt. “Any further offenses and you’ll be confined to the brig.”

Sendak and Shiro continue to stare each other down. Hunk steps forward once again and puts himself between the two. “Am I clear, Sendak?”

Finally Sendak folds and looks at Hunk. “Yes sir,” he says. It’s spoken like a threat, like Hunk is the one to be blamed for the whole thing.

Hunk gives him a hard look in return and then shakes his head and turns to leave. “And I expect you to keep a tighter leash on your cabin boy Mr. Shirogane.”

“Yessir,” Shiro says, already moving into Keith’s space to lead him away.

Sendak slinks off, and the rest of the Galra go back to work.

“I gave you one job,” Shiro starts the second no one is paying attention to them anymore.

“And I was doing it!” Keith gestures to the sack of potatoes near the railing. Shiro raises a skeptical eyebrow. “The kitchen was just stuffy so I came up here.”

Shiro sighs and runs a hand through his own hair as if frustrated. Keith knows that look, it’s the one he’s gotten from every parental figure and teacher who’s ever tried to guide him in the right direction but been disappointed when Keith is still Keith.

For once though he does feel bad. Shiro had to step into a physical conflict just because Keith couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Look…” Keith turns away to the railing so he won’t have to look at Shiro. “I’m sorry for all that. I didn’t mean to… and _ugh,”_ he feels Shiro come to stand beside him, solid and warm. “Thank you for uh, coming to help me out.”

A silence follows, lasting so long that Keith begins to doubt the man even heard him. He did say that out loud, didn’t he?

“Didn’t your old man ever teach you to pick your fights?” Shiro eventually says.

Keith snorts. “No, my dad wasn’t really around for teachable moments, he died when I was little.”

“Oh,” Shiro says. “I’m sorry.”

Keith shrugs it off because he's heard enough sympathies for his orphan-ness to last him a lifetime. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m doing just fine.”

“Is that so?” He can feel Shiro’s eyes on him, but Keith refuses to look.

The question is like a knife slipping right in under Keith’s ribs. “Uh huh.” Keith almost cringes at how his voice sounds. He doesn't care, he _doesn't_.

Shiro hums. “Well then, since you’re my charge I guess I’ll be the one pounding common sense into that daft skull of yours, keep you out of trouble.”

Keith blinks at the swerve away from more delicate topics. “What?”

A huge arm wraps around Keith’s shoulder and squeezes. “From now on I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Keith tries to pull away, but Shiro’s grip is immovable. “No!”

“Oh yes,” and now Shiro is grinning with manic glee. “With me at all times.”

“You can’t do that!” Keith _hates_ the idea of being managed, of being under someone’s boot all hours of the day. He agreed to be cabin boy because he thought it would be worth keeping an eye on Shiro. But being _glued_ to him sounds like agony. This trip was supposed to be _fun_.

And then before he knows it, Keith’s spun around and backed into the railing. Shiro leans closer to bracket him in. It’s not menacing like Sendak, but it does make something hot squirm in Keith’s belly. “Oh yes I can,” Shiro says. The smile has gone a little dark, a little predatory. It’s the switching from kindness to… whatever this is that gives Keith whiplash. “You’re mine, so you’re with me dawn to dusk.”

Keith swallows hard. His heart is beating harder than when Sendak had a laser sword aimed at his throat. What is wrong with him?

“Got it?”

“Yessir,” Keith says because he doesn’t have any other choice. Because he needs air and there isn’t any between them.

Shiro looks him up and down, and then lets him go. Keith’s not too proud to admit he grabs the railing to steady himself.

In the end they finish the potatoes in the kitchen, the entire time Keith trying not to be hyper aware of where are they are and are not touching.

 ##

 After that the Galra give him his space. It’s impossible to know though if it’s just because he’s always with Shiro.

Either way it’s one good thing that comes out of it. The only good thing. Because everything else is a practice in controlling his temper.

Every morning after the incident, Shiro comes to his hammock and wakes him up. He rushes Keith through washing and dressing and then marches him to the kitchen where they start food prep.

The rest of the day goes very much the same way. Keith does every small, annoying task Shiro can dream up, and when Keith complains, Shiro taunts him.

“Are you saying you can’t?” Shiro’s at the counter now working on dough, but he stops to cast his eyes up to Keith.

The top shelving of one of the pantries needs to be dusted per Shiro's order, but it’s higher than Keith can reach. It's not that Keith couldn’t go get a chair and do it, it's just that--

“It’s stupid.” Keith says.

Shiro makes a clucking sound. “Dusting every surface is important to a ships food stores.”

Keith gives him a look of disbelief. All day Keith has been doing tasks that are ruined minutes later by a ship full of dirty crewmen. He’s got enough sense in his head to know that most of the chores are just busywork.

Shiro smirks and then wipes his hands off to walk around the island counter. “Alright then, I’ll help.”

Keith steps back automatically when Shiro advances, but it’s no good, there’s nowhere to go. Easily Shiro picks him up and carries him into the pantry.

Keith’s always been slender, but he certainly isn’t a child anymore, and it’s a strange sensation to be lifted as though he were one. Shiro’s huge hands nearly encircle him and hoist him up as if he weighs nothing.

It’s so shocking Keith nearly forgets what he’s meant to be doing. He fumbles with the cloth and Shiro laughs.

Keith blushes. He can’t stop focusing on where Shiro is holding him tight. It’s so—

So, so _not_ the time or place. He breathes and then tries to refocus, wiping down the shelves, moving some of the cans.

Below Shiro is steady and patient. Keith wiggles a little to reach the corners, but no part of Shiro even budges. At no point does Keith even consider the idea that the man could drop him.

And isn't that a thought.

When Keith's finished, he looks down at Shiro who is watching him. The man lowers him back to the ground.

And then Shiro is almost too close, blocking the exit. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Still stupid,” Keith says, even though the rag in his hand proves that it was very dirty up there.

Shiro shakes his head fondly and backs out of the room. The tension goes with him.

Keith doesn’t know if he’s mad or relieved. He doesn’t know if he won or lost that round.

“If you’re finished,” Shiro says as he goes back to the dough, “we can go down to the longboats. Heard a couple of them came back this morning from scouting and they’re filthy.”

Keith groans. Every time they’ve gone down to the boats it’s been a disgusting mess.

“What? I thought you liked ships Keith.”

Keith puts the cleaning supplies away. “Love piloting, don’t love the care and maintenance of.”

Shiro folds the dough and tucks it into a bowl to rise. “Can’t have one without the other.”

“Sure seems like it,” Keith grumbles. _All_ he’s been doing for days is the care and maintenance, and it sucks.

“What’s that?”

Keith turns back to look at Shiro innocently. “What? Nothin.”

Shiro doesn’t buy it for a second, and somehow that pleases Keith.

The way back toward the longboats is quiet. Keith’s noticed more often than not Shiro’s moods coincide with how public they are. If Shiro believes there’s an audience, he keeps Keith at an arms length and orders him around like a dogsbody. Their friendly bickering happens mostly in the kitchen where they're left in peace.

It still catches Keith off guard, but he’s getting better at managing it. Slowly he’s learning what will prod Shiro toward playful sniping, and what actually pisses him off. Neither get him out of the grueling list of chores though. A shame.

Keith groans audibly when he sees the ships.

“Don’t worry, I’m giving you a break this time,” Shiro says. He whistles, and a moment later Kosmo materializes. “I’ve got some others things to do, so you’ll be working alone.”

“What!” Keith gestures wildly at the mess. The last time it took hours with both of them working together to clean the boats.

“I know, it’s very generous of me to give you space, but I really think you’ve earned it.”

“Shiro! This is gonna take all day!”

Shiro looks at the boats and then at Keith. He has that fake innocent expression on his face that drives Keith crazy. “Will it? Well maybe if you’re a slow worker.”

“You bas— ah!” Keith is cut off by Kosmo hopping up to greet him. Keith spits at the wolf slobber and tries to push him off.

“Kosmo will be your babysitter, so I’m trusting you to behave!”

“Fuck you!” Keith yells at his retreating back. Shiro’s laughter comes off the stairwell, and Keith doesn’t know if it soothes or angers him.

“Fine,” Keith kicks at the side of one of the boats. “Fine!”

Kosmo walks off to curl up on the boat covers against the far wall, watching Keith.

It doesn’t matter. Keith is going to clean all these boats in record time, and then he’s gonna go find Shiro and rub it in his face. Maybe even loose one of these crab-like insects down the back of his shirt. That would show him.

Keith smiles to himself, snatching up one of the little guys wandering off the dirty longboat. He empties one of the smallest washing buckets and turns it over, trapping the creature. Then he gets to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: we earn that E rating.


	7. Spoils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag update: frottage

It goes on like that between them for another two days. Keith is in turns surly and confrontational, but Shiro seems to have no shortage of either patience or ribbing for him.

It’s almost nice in a way to meet someone time and time again with attitude and have them be unmoved by it. To have them be, if Keith is reading this right, even a little amused by it. Shiro makes him feel like his claws are not a bug, but a feature. Like he doesn’t have to file himself down for someone to like him. It’s refreshing.

Unfortunately today is a whole different beast. Keith knows it as soon as he’s awoken, too early and with little to no good humor from Shiro.

Shiro doesn’t say what’s up, but when they cross the deck to the kitchen Keith can feel it all around them. The solar winds have roughened, and the early crew already looks irritable and tired.

They make breakfast and get complaints. Twice Keith is pulled from the kitchen by Hunk to clean vomit on the deck.

By the afternoon the whole ship is tense and snappish. Keith works quick when he has to be around the Galra, and bites his tongue when one of them tries to goad him into a fight. The entire thing is misery.

When Keith gets back to the kitchen to start helping with dinner, Sendak is leaving. Keith frowns at the man as they pass each other.

No one comes down into the kitchen except him and Shiro, so seeing Sendak here is highly suspicious. He doesn’t know what Sendak could want other than to start something with Shiro.

He eyes Shiro at the counter when Sendak is gone, but the man's gone flat and stoic. The only indication that something might have happened is how Kosmo is standing nearby a little too fluffed than he normally is.

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” Shiro spits.

It’s not fun banter time, clearly. Keith snaps his mouth shut.

After that they work in near silence, Shiro dictating and Keith fulfilling seamlessly. Over the last week they’ve gotten pretty good at working as a team.

That is, until the batch of stew begins to go south.

Because the day seemingly _can_ get worse, they find their stock of vegetables has started rotting for no reason. Keith then, while Shiro is rooting out the spoiled food, accidentally dumps way too much salt into the pot. He could kick himself.

Shiro dismisses him after that, and tries to save the meal. Keith sulks in the corner and watches, feeling guilty.

Too stubborn for his own good, Shiro continues to add spices, water and stock to try and save it, but every time he tastes it he grimaces. Keith is pretty sure some of the bad vegetables got in there before they caught the rot.

“Quiznak!” Shiro curses, flinging the ladle into the sink.

Keith doesn’t move, but he catches Kosmo on the other side of the kitchen blink out of the room. If only he could do the same.

Shiro stalks back to the pot, tries it again, and then storms away. He goes to the pantry and Keith hears him rustling around.

It’s a lost cause and they should just stop before they waste more good food. Keith creeps back to the pot and turns the burner off.

“What’re you doing?” Shiro has another can in hand and looks thunderous as he comes back to the counter.

“I think it’s time we call it.”

Shiro makes a sound of protest and then shoulders Keith over. He puts the can down and his arm flickers through several tools, coming up with something to open the can.

“Shiro, come on.”

“I’ve got it.”

Keith frowns. “I think the rotten—“

“Shut up!”

And it’s not Shiro’s fault exactly, it’s the irritations of the day, but Shiro telling him to shut up is just Keith’s tipping point. 

Keith shoves him, “Don’t tell me to shut up, what the hell is your problem?!”

Shiro doesn’t so much as budge and it only incites Keith further. He shoves at the man again.

It doesn’t do anything but get Shiro’s attention. Shiro turns to him, face awash in anger.

“What is _my_ problem? What is _your_ problem? You’re the one who just tried to shove me! You’re constantly taking shots at everyone like we’ve all personally victimized you!”

Shiro’s anger should scare him but it doesn’t, Keith feels self righteous. “Fuck you,” Keith spits, “you know it’s not like that.”

“Oh, do I?” Shiro steps toward him now menacingly. “Because from my perspective it’s exactly like that. Hot-headed troublemaker, didn’t I call it?”

Keith unconsciously steps back as Shiro advances. “And you’re a useless old _pirate_ trying to scrape his way by being a two-bit cook!” It comes with so much venom Keith can barely get the words out.

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Shiro growls as he steps forward again, his hand has transformed back into a regular hand. Keith steps back and hits the wall.

A wicked smile spreads across Shiro’s face as they both realize Keith is trapped.

“My problem,” Shiro says nastily, shoving Keith into the wall, “is you.”

Keith glares and raises his hands to push Shiro off, but the man grabs his wrists and pins them. They’re both breathing heavy, eyes locked, snarling at each other.

And then Shiro eyes flicker down to Keith’s mouth.

It happens in a split second. Shiro bends just as Keith arches and they come together in a hot smear of teeth and lips and desperation. Shiro closes all the space between and Keith feels _surrounded._

He gasps into the kiss, tries to grab at Shiro, but his hands are still immobilized. There’s something about that that is so hot. Shiro must think so too because the pressure increases as Shiro kisses him fervently.

Keith nips him and then gasps when Shiro does it in return. Shiro laughs darkly and closes the space between them again, his tongue dipping into Keith’s mouth.

Keith groans at the hot slickness, at how skilled Shiro seems to be at it. It’s almost nothing, but it feels like everything. Like Shiro is easily taking him apart, burning him from the inside out.

His hips shift and push and he’s hard, _fuck,_ he’s hard. Shiro grinds back, his hips keeping Keith against the wall.

Shiro’s hard too. And enormous.

Keith can’t breath.

Their tongues slide against each other in a mimicry of sex, and Shiro starts a rhythm with their hips, a dirty sliding that’s almost more tease than anything else.

Keith whines when their mouths part, when Shiro’s kisses start to move across his face and to his throat. Shiro hums and begins to suck at Keith’s throat and Keith—

His whole body lights up as if it’s connected directly to his cock. He writhes in Shiro’s grip, needing the friction and the heat and more—

“Please,” he gasps. There’s a nip at his throat and then another suck. It feels _amazing._

“Please what?” Shiro’s voice is gravel ground into his skin. It makes Keith’s cock throb.

“I don’t— I can’t— _fuck,_ ” the words fall apart on him when Shiro finds another spot just behind his ear. It’s not that Keith has never done this before, but it’s never been like _this._

He feels out of control, wild, but then Shiro grinds into him and he feels held, contained. He still can’t move his hands and it helps. Stokes the fire in him hotter.

It makes no sense.

“Please,” Keith says again because it’s all he has. He doesn’t know what he needs, but he’s certain Shiro does.

Shiro groans. Their hips are moving now steadily and Keith wants nothing more than to be undressed. To feel the heat and the length of Shiro’s cock against him.

Shiro’s cock. _Stars_.

“It’s okay,” there’s a kiss beneath his ear, a nibble at the lobe. “I’ve got you kit.”

The Galra word has been thrown at him a dozen times since he’s been on the ship, but never has it given Keith such a dizzy feeling. Suddenly Keith wants nothing more than to hear Shiro say it a hundred times more.

“Shiro!” He’s helpless in it, following Shiro’s lead, desperate to come. His hips move with Shiro’s, rutting messily with far too many layers of clothes.

“That’s it,” Shiro growls, “you need it bad, don’t you?”

Keith makes a sound of assent, of pleading. He’s at Shiro’s mercy and it’s torture and ecstasy. He’s so close to the edge he can’t think of anything besides those sucking kisses, the hard length of Shiro’s cock grinding on his.

And then there’s a finger grazing his nipple, pinching when Keith keens. Keith’s freed hand comes down and latches onto Shiro’s shirt as Shiro’s hand slides down and grabs his waist.

It’s a gasoline fire the way their mouths come back together, how Shiro licks into his mouth, filthy, and holds him tightly in one hand. Keith’s lost all his sense completely, but Shiro has him, uses his strength to keep Keith on rhythm, to move his hips and grind against Shiro.

He can feel that hand almost span him, firm and demanding and Keith—

The broken cry he gives is swallowed, taken by Shiro just as the rest of Keith is. He starts to come in his pants, gasping and clutching and kissing. He feels like he’s burning but he doesn’t want it to stop, he follows wave after wave of it.

“Fuck,” Shiro pants into his cheek. “You’re so hot, how are you _real?”_ The other hand comes off Keith’s wrist, and Keith has just enough energy to open his eyes as Shiro take his hips in both hands and grinds against him.

Shiro grunts, huffs, and then presses Keith tight to the wall as he comes. His hips moving in aborted motions that remind Keith of fucking. He can’t help but wish that’s what they had just done.

Fuck. What _have_ they just done?!

Shiro comes down pressed to Keith against the wall. He’s breathing hard and it ruffles the top of Keith’s hair. Shiro is so _big._

There’s a delicate moment of silence and then, “We were not supposed to do that,” Shiro says.

This Keith knows. He knows there’s at _least_ half a dozen reasons they should not have just done that, but hearing Shiro say it still stings. It's stupid.

“Because you’re my boss?” Keith tries for levity.

“Uh, yeah… I guess I am. Shit.”

Shiro seems to realize then that they’re still pressed together, because he lets go of Keith’s hips and steps back. Keith stays leaning against the wall for support, his whole body still feels a little bit like jelly.

At least Shiro also looks like a mess. He’s sweaty and his pants are still partially tented and everything about him screams _well-fucked. I_ t's a good look. A really good look.

They catch each other’s eyes and then quickly look away.

“You uh, I…” Shiro is gesturing to his own throat and Keith raises a hand to touch his. It’s hot, tender to the touch. He remembers Shiro sucking at the skin and—

“Shit.”

“Sorry,” Shiro says. “I don’t know what came over me. I don’t— this isn’t—“ he steps back to the stool beside the kitchen counter and drops down at it. His metal hand cards through his sweaty hair.

“It’s fine,” Keith says. His eyes go to the door. He considers the odds of running into anyone on the way back to the sleeping quarters. It will need to be done soon, since his pants are sticky and growing more uncomfortable by the second.

“Would you just sit a second? I need to just…” Shiro makes a vague gesture to the space around them. “Then I can call Kosmo, he’ll take you back to change.”

Keith acquiesces because it sounds like the best option he has. He makes sure to take the more distant chair though, he certainly doesn’t trust himself near Shiro right now.

“Look,” Shiro clears his throat and looks at the floor, the crates, anywhere but at Keith. “I just want to be clear that that was… uh, great. I don’t want you to think for a second I regret or am ashamed or anything like that. But this situation is… not good for like a lot of reasons. A lot of reasons. And we can’t do it again.”

“That’s pretty vague.”

“I like to keep things vague,” Shiro says.

“I’ve noticed.” Keith can’t help the barb. Shiro absolutely doesn’t need to get into the weeds on why they can’t do this, but it still smarts. Keith hates that it does.

Shiro cringes. “This is a job,” he says it almost like he’s rehearsed it. “This can only be a job.”

“I get it,” Keith gets up. “And it’s fine. Won’t happen again. Can you call Kosmo?”

Shiro frowns but whistles for Kosmo. There’s a flash of light and then the wolf appears.

“Are you—“

“It’s fine.” Keith cuts him off. Suddenly all he wants is to be away from Shiro. He’d felt so safe beneath Shiro’s hands just minutes ago, but now Keith feels like he’s about to break apart. “How do I?”

“Oh,” Shiro addresses the wolf. “Hey Kosmo, Keith needs to go back to his sleeping quarters, can you take him? And just… anything he needs, okay buddy?”

The wolf doesn’t give any outward acknowledgement, but pads over to Keith and nuzzles his hand.

“Hey Kosmo.”

They dissolve in light before Shiro can get another word in, and frankly that’s just as well for Keith.

 #

 It’s too early for anyone to be turning in for bed, so Keith has full use of the washpod when he gets back. He’s quick about it, helping himself to some of Lance's cosmetics after. It’s not too hard to hide the hickeys the shirt won’t, and Keith does so without thinking about them.

Then he decides after all the shit that happened today, he should just turn in for the night.

But when he gets to the hammock it’s got a snoozing cosmic wolf.

“Hey, off!”

Kosmo blinks an eye open but huffs and doesn’t move. Keith sighs at the inevitability of it all, and then decides he won’t lose this one too, so he climbs in on top of Kosmo.

This does get Kosmo to move a little, but it’s not off the hammock like Keith wanted. Instead they end up kind of cocooned together, Kosmo pressing his snout into Keith’s belly and sighing happily.

If he weren’t so cute, Keith would hate this. He’s never shared a bed with anyone or anything before.

But Kosmo is soft and warm and the day has been so long and miserable and confusing. Maybe Keith does want some company, maybe this is Kosmo's way of being there for him.

Keith keeps his mind off a certain cyborg, winding his arm around the big fluffy wolf. There is distant chatter from the deck and the almost imperceptible sway of the ship against the solar winds. Keith closes his eyes and lets it sooth him, lets it remind him of greater things to come.

There are distant planets and treasures ahead of him, Keith can feel it in his bones. He just has to keep his eyes on the prize.

It’s Daibazaal he thinks of as he slips off to sleep, and not the raspy desperate way Shiro said, _how are you real?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All explicit tags will be updated per chapter, so just skip the author note if you want to be surprised. There will be quite a few kinks in this story, because I know what I'm about son. 
> 
> Next time: Kosmo's a cutie, and the boys are dedicated to totally never ever doing that again. REALLY.


	8. Behind Closed Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new tags, but I want to reassure that while this fic is tagged for violence due to pirate shenanigans, none of it is sexual violence. There's a scene in this chapter that a character misreads, and I just want to clarify that none of that will feature in this story.

 Keith sleeps late that next morning. He doesn’t mean to, but he’s soft and warm tucked up against Kosmo. It doesn't help that his Shiro alarm clock never appears.

Keith thinks on this for ten minutes as he pets the big fluff ball beside him. It has to be for the best. Some space is just what they need. When Kosmo starts to rouse, Keith dislodges his arm from beneath the weight.

“Shiro’s probably wondering where you are,” Keith says when the wolf blinks awake at him.

There’s no response, but Kosmo offers his chin for some more scratches. Keith smiles.

“How’re you such a good boy and your dad such a jerk?”

Kosmo has no insight into that either.

When Keith eventually crawls out of the hammock he notices Lance isn’t in his. At least one person's interpersonal relationships are going well. Keith helps himself to the cosmetics again to make sure the hickeys are covered, then dresses for the day and tucks his knife into his waistband. He's been keeping it on him since the run in with Sendak, he doesn't want to get caught with just a tiny kitchen knife again.

Kosmo follows him out.

It’s a stiff and awkward morning, but he and Shiro get through it. Shiro sends him on more running errands than previously, and Keith reminds himself it's for the best.

The morning is breezy and colder than the last few have been. They’re passing close to a white, icy planet that Keith can see off the starboard as he crosses the deck.

After all the drama of yesterday, neither he or Shiro ever got around to informing the captain about the rotting food. Keith has the list now as he knocks on Allura’s door. He spares just a moment to worry that it’s too early before she answers, perfectly dressed and not a hair out of place.

“Yes Mr. Kogane?”

Keith hands her the datapad with the information, explaining the rot and how much food was affected.

“Very well—“

“Hey is that Keith?” A hand on the edge of the door widens the gap to reveal Lance. He’s completely dressed, it doesn’t _appear_ like Keith’s interrupted anything.

Still.

“Hey Lance.”

“Hey! Come in, come in. Come look at the charts I’ve been working on, I think you’ll like it!”

Without even checking with Allura, Lance grabs him and hauls him into the room.

Time gets away from Keith after that. Lance starts talking a mile a minute about his work, and although Keith doesn’t understand half of it, he does love the mapping Lance has gotten done.

It seems he’s also spared some time to measure and track the solar winds, and his data has helped Allura improve sailing.

“Lance has been very helpful,” Allura inclines her head at the mess of screens and papers sprawled everywhere. “It’s why I’ve allowed him to work in my cabin.”

“Allura’s been a great help,” Lance gushes. “She’s been sailing since she was a kid, so she really has a keen understanding of it. Reminds me of a certain someone else,” Lance nudges him playfully.

And that’s true, so much of their early friendship revolved around solar sailing, even if Keith liked the practical and Lance liked the theoretical.

They wind down eventually and Keith remembers that he should probably get back to work. Lance hugs him at the door when they part. “Can you believe our lives?” He beams.

Keith hasn’t had any opportunity to mention Shiro with Allura hovering at the edges, and he aches to. Lance is his best friend, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing him.

“I’ll pinch myself when you get us to Daibazaal.” Keith says.

“You mean when you do!” He laughs. “Oh! That reminds me, can you come by tonight after hours? We need to get a fresh charting from the map.”

Keith agrees and they part. As he heads back toward the kitchen, Keith feels bolstered against the awkwardness that will greet him. He can get through anything with Lance. They certainly have over the years.

 ##

 “Kosmo really likes you,” Shiro says later that day. This is after Keith’s come back from hauling the trash down to the longboats for disposal. Kosmo had followed him the whole way down and back.

“Clearly not enough,” Keith pants, collapsing down into a chair. “Could’ve poofed us.”

Shiro comes over with a glass of water and hands it to Keith.

“I’m pretty sure he’s got a limited number per day. It’s gotta take a lot of energy. He saves them for what he thinks is worth it.”

Keith downs half the water at once. “Oh yeah? And watching me struggle down two flights of stairs wasn’t, boy?”

Kosmo’s ears perk and he presses against Keith for a scratching.

“Oh no you don’t! You didn’t help at all, you don’t get a reward for that!” Keith tries to gently push the wolf away, but it’s a lost cause. Kosmo flops down on Keith’s feet, looking up at him with wide, begging eyes.

“Don’t be cruel, Keith,” Shiro teases, “Can’t you see he’s suffering?”

Keith smiles and reaches down to scratch at all that fluff. “Yeah, real hard life when you’re that cute.”

Shiro hums and Keith looks up, their eyes meet for a charged moment. Keith feels his stomach swoop.

Then Shiro steps back and Keith forces himself to look away. They’re not doing that, they’re not.

“When you’re finished restoring Kosmo’s will to live, I’ll need help with the crates. Captain sent a message that it’ll be a few days to restock the fresh vegetables, so I’m gonna do some meals with the dried stuff.”

Keith makes a sound of agreement, getting both hands on Kosmo’s stomach when the wolf starts wiggling around happily. He watches as Shiro takes the datapad to the crates and begins marking which to pull.

A stronger man would look away, but Keith can’t. Shiro isn’t facing him anymore, and the muscles of his back are just… magnificent.

And then Shiro puts down the datapad to move some of the crates out of the way and Keith has to swallow the saliva in his mouth.

Shiro’s been way too attractive the moment Keith laid eyes on him, but it’s worse now with the firsthand experience of that strength. Shiro can lift crates of food, the wolf, and even Keith without breaking a sweat and that’s good. Really good.

It reminds him of yesterday against the wall, but in this new fantasy Shiro has picked him up, is holding Keith’s weight up easily and moving him on his co—

_No!_

That’s not going to happen because they are not doing that. For galaxies sake, Shiro could still be the cyborg that burned down the inn!

He could be the enemy.

Keith’s seen how fast his mood can flip, how he’s capable of anger and savagery just as the rest of the Galra crew are. At the very least, Shiro came with a Galra crew, he’s one of them. Just because he’s hot and has a cute cosmic wolf, it doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.

Keith stands up, and even though Kosmo goes right back to pouting, he heads over to help Shiro.

They work together just as easily as before. Shiro points out which need to come forward and Keith helps. When a crate is too much for him, Shiro steps in to lift.

Keith catches himself more than once eyeing Shiro’s bicep, his pectorals, the sweat that starts across the back of his neck. He wishes he had taken the opportunity yesterday to taste it.

Jerking himself away from that line of thinking, Keith pinches his fingers setting down the crate. “Ouch, shit, stupid thing!” He steps back, waving his hand at the pain.

“What happened?” Shiro’s suddenly in his space, reaching for his hand.

It’s a little red, but nothing’s actually damaged. “Pinched my fingers.”

Shiro bends each of his fingers carefully, inspecting them for himself. Keith keeps his eyes down, watching, taking deep, steadying breaths. “You’ve gotta be careful Keith.”

“I was. It’s fine.”

“This time,” Shiro’s hand covers his own in a gentle, soothing squeeze. “Why don’t you take a break, I’ll do the rest.”

Keith hates being sidelined, hates it even more when it’s because someone thinks him incapable. “No I can still work, it’s not a big deal.”

“I know it’s not,” Shiro says. “But if you squash your fingers, who will give Kosmo scratches?” Shiro says it a little teasingly and it takes away the sting.

Keith blows out a puff of air. “Fine, but only because of Kosmo.”

They smile at each other and there’s that flicker, that magnetism that pulls at Keith. He turns away, his heart speeding up.

Kosmo trots over, spotting his opportunity, and Keith pets him carefully as he listens to Shiro move the last of the crates into place. There’s an urge to reach up and touch the sore spots still on his neck. To press into the bruises and remind himself that they’re there.

But he doesn’t because they’re not doing that. Keith just has to move past this.

Shiro walks by him with a towel on his neck, his shirt just beginning to stick with sweat. “I’m going for a shower, then we’ll start on lunch.”

Keith takes a long, slow breath in and out.

 ##

The rest of the day is much of the same. He and Shiro work in gravitational orbits around each other, avoiding near collisions by millimeters. By the time they’re cleaning up from dinner, Keith is so pent up he can barely focus.

“Would you mind finishing these up?” Shiro says when there’s just the cooking pans left. “I promised I would help Ezor with something days ago and I’m starting to feel bad.”

Keith doesn’t know who that is, but the name is clearly Galran. He nods because the work left isn’t a lot, and he needs to stay later to meet up with Allura anyway.

“Thanks Keith. Goodnight.” Shiro gets to the doorway and then turns back. “You coming Kosmo?”

The wolf is half asleep beside Keith’s stool, but makes no effort to get up. Keith snorts.

“Guess I’ll take that as a no. Alright,” Shiro gives him a wave and then disappears up the stairs.

For the rest of the time it takes him to finish, Keith ruminates on what Shiro could be doing. With the exception of Sendak, Shiro seems to get along well with the Galra. Or at the very least all of them have respect for him. It makes sense because Shiro is apart of their crew, but it's still weird because Shiro is _human_.

Since Keith has been glued to Shiro, the Galra have backed off completely. Keith’s been diligent in keeping his knife on him since Sendak, but somehow Shiro is the greater deterrent. He doesn't understand it. Keith wants to know the story.

By the time the dishes are done, Keith's exhausted. It's been a long day of self denial, and he wants nothing more than just to go and collapse in his hammock.

Dutifully he drags himself to Allura’s quarters, leaving Kosmo snoozing in the corner of the kitchen.

In Allura’s room Lance is passed out at one of the tables. It's late but Allura is still completely dressed.

“Your friend is quite passionate about his work,” Allura says quietly as they go to the wall safe.

“Yeah,” Keith watches her put in the code and then hand over the map. “He’s always been like that.”

Allura in turn watches him unlock the sphere. He does it quickly, working with both hands, one half hidden, so she won’t know how it’s done. He trusts Allura, he does, but you can never be too careful. It opens in a beautiful glow of lights.

It takes a few minutes for Allura to get positioning data and update their projected course. Then she turns and nods at him.

“Alright, thank you Mr. Kogane, you may close it back up.”

Keith does so and hands it back to be stored again. “You could call me Keith.”

Allura smiles, it’s slight but there. Keith almost does a double take. “You know, I almost did before. Lance talks about you all day, I feel quite familiar with you at this point.”

“He does?”

“Oh yes,” and her expression tells Keith that not all of the stories told paint Keith in the most flattering light. “You’ve made quite the impression on him.”

“We’ve been friends for ages.”

“Quite,” Allura walks him back to the door now, but she’s still radiating good humor. It’s a drastic change from their first interaction. Keith wonders what exactly Lance has been saying. “Friendships are important, I don’t know where I’d be without Hunk.”

“Yeah, Lance is great,” Keith says, because he’s not sure where to go with that.

“Listen,” Keith is outside the door already, but Allura follows him and pulls the door almost closed behind her. “I was a little… rash in my judgement of you two. I thought you’d be hooligans on this ship, and while Lance can be a little… over-eager, his hearts in the right place. As it is with you.” Allura looks down the hall and then back at Keith. “What I’m trying to say is that if you need a break from the crew, you’re welcome to come here any time.”

“Oh,” the kindness is unexpected. Keith almost laughs, because he would have jumped on her offer days ago but now... “Thanks Captain, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please do,” it’s a more full smile this time and it knocks Keith a little sideways. He absolutely does not blame Lance for his crush, she really is stunning. “Goodnight Keith.”

“Goodnight Captain.”

Keith walks all the way to the bow of the ship running that conversation back through his head. It’s such a reversal from when they first met and it makes Keith feel warm. Like despite how the journey has gone so far maybe they are gonna make it. Maybe not everything is going to be a battle.

Then he hears the sound of a thump and a woman curse in Galran.

In a second Keith’s dropped into a defensive stance and pulled his knife. It’s late and the lights of the deck have been dimmed since there is so few crew above deck. There's no one even near him to hear the sound.

There's another sound and Keith tracks it to a stairwell he doesn’t often frequent. It goes down to the engines and the technical parts of the ship.

A woman tries to shout and is immediately muffled. Keith grips the knife tightly and descends the stairs.

At the bottom, tucked just far enough into the hall to not be seen from above is two Galra men and one woman. They’re all vaguely recognizable as crew, but Keith doesn’t know their names.

All three of them are bleeding. The men are far worse than the woman is.

She elbows the brute with his hand over her mouth and then bites him when his grasp slackens.

They speak rapid Galra at each other as the two men try once again to corner the woman. She’s not small by any means, and she seems like she’s been holding her own thus far, but Keith can still see she’s outnumbered.

“What’s going on here?” Their backs are to Keith and immediately they startle and swerve around.

The woman doesn’t hesitate for a second, she kicks and punches and bites and the two turn furious and try to grab at her.

Keith is quick and slips up behind one, holding his knife just at the throat. “Woah there buddy.”

The Galra snarls, but holds up his hands up as if surrendering. The woman has already incapacitated the other and he’s lying on the ground clutching between his legs.

Her eyes flicker to Keith and then back to the man he’s holding. “I’ll be telling the boss about this little stunt.”

The woman brushes down her shirt and then, casual as you please, walks around the Galra Keith has at knife point.

“C’mon Kogane, this is finished.”

Keith doesn’t know exactly what just happened, but he’s certainly not going to stick around in the dark with these two Galra. He pulls away and follows the woman back up the stairs and to the deck.

“Thanks for that,” she says as they walk toward the sleeping quarters. “Walk me to my friends? They’ve got a room lower down and I think I’d feel better in a room tonight than the hammocks.”

“Yeah, sure,” Keith says, because he wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving her so soon anyway. “I’m Keith, by the way.”

“I know,” she says. “I’m Axca.”

“What was that all about?”

Axca shrugs, leading the way. “They just thought they’d be funny. Galra politics, don’t worry about it.”

It’s hard not to considering the scene. “Were they…?” Keith doesn’t know how to ask. Doesn’t know if he _should,_ except he can’t turn a blind eye to it.

This makes the woman laugh. “Oh no, not this crew. Not if they want to live. They were just trying to scare me. It’ll be fine.”

Axca stops in front of a door, there are a few on this hall, so this must be where the cabin rooms are. It makes Keith wonder why he and Lance don’t have rooms.

She knocks and a tall Galra woman answers.

“Hey Ezor, can I crash with you guys tonight?”

Ezor looks at Acxa’s roughened appearance and then suspiciously at Keith.

“Not him, I’ll explain later.”

With that Ezor swings the door fully open. “Yeah, of course!” She’s gone full cheery in two seconds flat. She holds her hand out to Keith. “Hi, I’m Ezor.”

She’s the Galra Shiro was seeing earlier. Weird. “I’m Keith.”

Ezor laughs. “I know!”

“Alright it’s too late for chatter. Goodnight Keith, thanks again.” Axca pushes past Ezor and gives Keith a wave.

Ezor bids him goodnight as well, and then the door shuts and locks it.

Keith walks back to the common sleeping area. Kosmo's in his hammock again, but this time it's a relief to see it. Keith isn't exactly afraid that the two Galra will come find him, but his paranoia about his sleeping space has always been a little too extreme. While he always sleeps with his knife, he knows better than anyone it's small and mostly for intimidation. Having a three hundred pound wolf to cuddle up with is a different level of insurance altogether.

Keith climbs into the hammock and snuggles down into the blue fur. Kosmo is warm and smells somehow like dog and it's comforting. Keith slides his knife beneath his pillow and closes his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: The boys scrape the edges of their self control.


	9. Knife's Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tags: handjob, size difference

 “Hey can I ask you something?” Keith says to Shiro when he first gets to the kitchen in the morning. Once again Shiro has failed to materialize and wake him.

Keith misses it.

“If it’s about the Galra, I heard they’ve been dealt with.” Shiro already has the oven going and it smells like bread in the kitchen.

“What? How?”

“Boss got wind of it and took care of it.”

“But it’s been like… seven hours.” Keith says.

Shiro finishes with the oven and turns his attention to Keith. “Stuff moves fast on a ship this small. Can’t have any dissonance.”

“Wow, guess I should thank Allura for dealing with it so fast.”

Shiro hums. “Good of you, by the way, to help Axca.”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not like she really needed it, she seemed very… capable.”

This gets a chuckle out of Shiro. “That she is. Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid  are the original crew, they’re not to be messed with.”

“Those two Galra missed the memo.”

Shiro’s face does something then, and his expression darkens. “They won’t make that mistake again,” he says.

The statement sends a prickle of ice up Keith’s spine. He has no doubt that Shiro would have taken care of them himself if it had come to it.

“Anyway,” Shiro clears his throat and turns his attention to Keith, “it’s wuffcakes for breakfast, can you get the mix?”

##

Since the… _incident_ , Shiro hasn’t kept Keith quite as underfoot, and the same proves true that day. Keith serves the breakfast solo as Shiro cleans, then he takes down trash and runs various errands.

After lunch Lance appears and pulls him from the kitchen to hang out. Shiro lets him go easily saying he’s going to go check on Acxa.

They get looks as they post up against one of the railings, watching the stars slowly drift by. In fact, Keith’s been getting looks all day from the crew, but for once they’re not overly aggressive.

Or at least, some of them aren’t. Sendak and the Galra he hangs with still greet Keith with open hostility, but it’s nice to know at least _some_ of the Galra have softened.

The change is obvious enough that Lance asks about it, so Keith tells him the whole story.

“Wow. I mean good that you intervened, but dude these are _Galra_ , you need to be careful.” Lance says.

“I didn’t exactly have time to think it through.”

“Uh huh,” Lance nudges him playfully. “So how’s it working with the crew? I feel like I miss so much being down at Allura’s.”

“Fine. Good really, I’m mostly with Shiro and he’s nice.” Lance gives him a questionable look. “What? He is. He’s got this surly thing going on, but he’s on this crew with these other Galra so I get it.”

“That is kinda weird. What’s his story?”

Keith is ashamed he doesn’t know. He shrugs. “We don’t really talk like that.”

That’s not completely true. They talk all day about a lot of stuff, but none of it is about themselves. Keith’s never noticed until right now.

It’s an uncomfortable thought, as is most of the Keith’s thoughts around Shiro these days. They’re not close, but they also aren’t pulling away. At least not far enough to shake off that vibrating tension.

It occurs to Keith he could tell Lance. About Sendak and the… incident in the kitchen. He could even tell Lance about the cyborg warning.

But the words stick to his throat. They’re tangled and muddled, and for the first time ever he wants to keep them. Wants to tuck the him-and-Shiro thing deep into his chest where only he can see it. There's something about it that feels fragile and it makes him uncertain.

Instead Keith turns the conversation around and asks Lance about Allura.

Before the other boy even speaks, the blush that rises across his cheeks speaks volumes.

##

 Later when they’re working on dinner, Keith is still thinking of the conversation with Lance. He doesn’t like that the only thing he really knows about Shiro is his name. And yet they’ve…

It’s incomprehensible. Keith’s messed around with guys before in school, guys he’d known for years, and it hadn’t been like _that._ There was none of that sparking, too-hot energy that he felt with Shiro.

The energy he still feels every time they so much as graze each other.

And there’s plenty of that no matter how hard they try and avoid each other.

“Behind you,” Shiro says as he moves to the sink to drain pasta. Keith’s focused on chopping up herbs, but he has to pause at the zing he feels when Shiro’s hip bumps his.

It’s ridiculous.

He forces himself to focus on the knife and the task in front of him.

Shiro starts humming a tune as he drains the pasta and then dumps it back in the pot. It’s distracting.

Then there’s a hand on the small of his back as Shiro steps around him again for the canned tomato sauce. It’s searing, the heat and size of it. Keith swallows hard. It’s far too many seconds before the hand falls away.

Shiro’s quick with his metal hand, cutting open the cans and dumping the sauce into a pot. It’s mesmerizing to watch. Keith has never seen someone so in sync with their prosthetic.

“Finished?” Shiro asks.

Keith jumps because he’s been staring and the knife slips.

The cut is just a sliver on his pointer finger, it’s the automatic gasp he gives that draws Shiro’s attention.

“Shit, you okay?” Immediately the other man is turning him to get a look at his finger.

Keith drops the knife and feels himself flush. This time it’s from embarrassment. He’s been handling knives since he was a child, and sure he wasn’t using _his_ knife for chopping herbs, but there is absolutely no reason for him to be this clumsy. “I’m fine, just a nick.”

Shiro is holding his finger up close to his face for inspection. “Yeah… still we should take care of it. You never know what germs could be lurking, c'mon.”

With that Shiro leads him away from the counter and to one of the stools. Keith sits and Shiro goes to a cabinet and pulls out a first aid kit.

“Really, it’s fine,” Keith says, he has déjà vu of pinching his fingers the day before. Shiro must think him such a mess.

“Then this will be quick.” Shiro brings the kit back and finds a disinfectant wipe. He cleans Keith’s hand with more care than the small cut really warrants.

Keith’s sure his face is flaming. He’s used to a sort of gruffness from Shiro, and when it falls away like this Keith doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know why Shiro is so different when it's just them, why there are these moments when he looks at Keith like--

Worst of all, Keith seems to have no defenses against it.

Shiro holds pressure for a few seconds to make sure the bleeding has stopped and then he fishes out a tiny band-aid. Watching his big hands fuss with the tiny thing makes something squeeze in Keith’s chest.

“There you go.” Shiro says when the finger is wrapped.

“Thank you,” Keith says even though now he feels shakier than before.

“I told you to be careful.” Shiro rubs over the band-aid. His eyes meet Keith’s.

The tension screws itself tighter between them. The air feels tacky and thick, totally unbreathable.

“I know. I will,” Keith says. It’s barely a whisper.

“Good.” Shiro’s finger is still tracing the band-aid. He’s so close and his eyes are boring into Keith.

“Yeah,” Keith can’t ignore the way that Shiro is touching him in just one place. The gentleness against the sting of the cut is taking him apart.

It’s the weirdest thing that’s ever turned Keith on.

Shiro’s eyes drop to his mouth. “Okay,” he says.

Keith’s lost the plot of the conversation. All he can think about is how close they are, how much he wants Shiro to just bend down the extra few inches and—

“Okay,” Shiro says, and then he pulls away. “Okay,” he clears his throat and turns away. “Dinner. We ah, need to finish.”

The cold air that moves in helps a little, but not much. Keith’s half hard in his pants. He agrees they need to finish, but he could care less about dinner.

Fucking hell.

Already Shiro is back at the counter, finishing the herbs and adding them to the sauce. It’s amazing to see him recover that fast, almost offensive. Keith knows the other man felt that just as he did.

Or he hopes.

It feels as though they both scraped the edges of their self control. The experience was dizzying. Terrifying. Exciting.

Keith forces himself to breathe, to will away his erection. Shiro doesn’t look at him so Keith takes his time. They still have work to do, so Keith needs to pull himself together.

But what he wouldn’t give to excuse himself right now and go take care of himself. He wants to, but he knows he won’t.

This is his job and… he doesn’t want to leave Shiro just yet. As frustrating as it is, it’s also _thrilling._ And Keith never met a bad idea he didn’t want to get involved with. It's why he's in this situation at all.

When he comes back to the counter Shiro sends him to the oven to heat the leftover bread. The distance does little now that the damage is already done.

They push on though, they're both stubborn. They finish dinner and Keith takes plates up to the crew before he settles down for his own meal. Shiro sits beside him as he usually does, and they eat hyper-aware of every inch of space separating them. Or at least Keith is.

The distance is both paltry and substantial. It would take almost nothing to turn to Shiro and fall into the thing between them. It's only that they agreed they wouldn’t.

And all the reasons for that decision still stand.

After they finish eating Keith goes back to collect dishes. On the way back he nearly collides with Shiro on the stairs.

“Woah!” Shiro’s hand clamps onto his forearm to steady him. “Sorry, thought I would come up to help. Make it go faster.”

None of the dishware fall, thankfully, but it's a near thing. "Okay, thanks." Keith says.

But Shiro doesn't move, his hands are still on Keith. Is there an issue? Keith can't see properly with the stacks of dish wear.

A few more seconds pass and then Keith tries to peek at him through the dishes. "Are you going to move?” The dishes are heavy and still precariously balanced, so Keith doesn't have the maneuverability.

And with his luck over the last few days he's not even going to try. The last thing he needs is to spend the evening cleaning sauce out of kitchen crevasses.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.” The hand comes off Keith like it’s a huge difficulty. Then Shiro moves around him and up the stairs.

Keith takes the dishes to the sink and dumps them. He turns on the water and sticks his hands under to splash his face. _“Fuck,”_ he says to no one. He rinses his face again and again to try and steady himself until he hears the sound of Shiro on the stairs. Quickly he wipes his face and grabs the dish brush and soap.

Might as well start on the dishes.

“Oh thanks,” Shiro says when he drops off the next load of plates. “Just one more trip and then I can help.”

It’s not really what Keith needs at this point, but there isn’t any choice. They’ve done enough dishes together at this point that refusing would be weird.

Instead, while Shiro goes, Keith scrubs at the plates with vigor. Unfortunately his own frustration does not wash off like the remnants of dinner. All Keith does is wear off his band-aid.

Shiro sees it when he brings back the rest of the dishes. “How about you dry, I’ll wash.”

There's no reason to argue it, so Keith doesn't. Keith goes to move aside, but Shiro is standing too close and their hips brush. It's hard to know if it was accidental or intentional. Keith takes a steadying breath.

They work in silence after that. Shiro washes and Keith dries. When Keith gets a stack of dishes done he takes them about the kitchen, returning them to their proper drawers. It's a long process, but they've managed to streamline it as much as possible while working together.

The last to wash are the cooking pots. Keith spends a while drying and stacking them in one another so they don't accumulate rust. Then he shuffles over to the bottom pantry to try and shove them into the overstuffed space. They haven't even used half the cook wear in the bottom pantry, so Keith doesn't know why they even have it.

He’s just making headway getting the last of them in, when two huge hands wrap around his hips and pull him back.

Keith makes a sound of alarm, and some of the pots go crashing to the ground. He barely notices, because then there’s heat and Shiro’s nose skimming the back of his neck. _Stars_.

“You’re such a _tease,”_ he says into Keith’s ear. The hands grind Keith back into—

Keith almost chokes at the realization that Shiro is hard.

“You don’t even mean it, you just look like _that,_ and…” Shiro pushes against him and Keith has to fumble to support himself against the cabinetry. His brain is stalling, being crushed behind the wave of want that swamps him.

“Fuck,” Keith hisses as Shiro kisses his neck.

“We can’t.”

Keith knows, he knows, but he’s just so hot for it. He feels like he's been wound up all day. He tilts his throat on offer. “I need it.”

“Did you like that?” Shiro says into his throat. “Me marking you up.”

“Yes,” Keith pants and then whines when Shiro starts to suck on his neck.

The hands on his hips slide forward, fingers grazing the tent of Keith’s cock. Shiro hums and nibbles at the skin behind his ear. “And what’s this?”

“Please,” Keith says. His heart is pounding, he can barely breathe. Shiro’s hands are huge and he’s still moving Keith on him, rutting against Keith’s ass.

“We can’t do this,” Shiro says even as the metal fingers find Keith’s cockhead through his pants and trace it.

“Just once.”

There’s a dark laugh and another sucking kiss to his throat. Shiro’s fingers wander up to Keith’s zipper. “We already did just once.”

“You didn’t touch me,” Keith gasps when the clasp clicks and the zipper of his pants is pulled down. He feels frantic, burning. “I, _ah_ , I need you to touch me.”

The hands stop and grasp him hard, drag him forcefully for several seconds against Shiro’s cock. Shiro swears. “You can’t just say stuff like that, kit.”

They’re a feedback loop and Keith just wants them both to smolder. He can't stand the idea of Shiro pulling away now. “I mean it,” he says feeling bold, “everywhere you touch me burns,” he grinds back on Shiro. “You say I’m a tease, but you could have me right now, just bend me over—“ Keith pants, “and slide your c—“

Metal fingers slip into Keith’s mouth and cut him off. A hard breath tickles the back of his neck. “You’re a menace,” Shiro says.

But then his human hand is slipping inside Keith’s pants and Keith moans around the metal fingers.

Keith’s wet, he knows he is because he’s so turned on he can barely focus, but Shiro groans when he palms Keith’s cock and finds it messy.

“Won’t take much more will it?” Shiro strokes him root to tip and Keith loses his rhythm trying to buck into the hand.

Shiro steps forward so Keith is pinned against the cabinet. He grinds against Keith’s ass as he begins to stroke him.

“Just this once,” Shiro says. He bites at Keith’s neck just to hear him keen. “Then it’ll be out of our systems.”

Keith makes a sound of agreement. He would agree to literally anything right now. Shiro’s hand is warm and tireless as it strokes him, and he can feel Shiro’s cock every time it pushes against his ass.

Keith groans and sucks at the fingers still in his mouth. He tries to hold out, to make the cresting pleasure last, but it’s so hard.

Shiro makes these blistering sounds, and picks up the pace. Keith can just tell how close the man is, and the thought of Shiro getting off brings Keith right to the edge.

“I’m gonna—“ Shiro moans and the implication is it for Keith.

He starts to come in Shiro’s hand, panting and writhing, and then Shiro pushes up against his ass and stays there.

The man curses through his orgasm, rutting against Keith, but it’s hard to follow. Keith’s slowing, pleasure luring him down into a softer space.

There’s a gentle kiss on his throat which feels very sore. Keith sighs happily.

The fingers slip out of his mouth and Keith can’t help but look down. Shiro’s hand is covered in come, and some of it is smeared against the cabinetry.

The visual is… wow.

Slowly, Shiro pulls away, making sure Keith can stand on his own. He manages, but only just.

Shiro hands him a cloth.

“Thanks,” Keith says and wipes himself down the best he can.

“Yeah.”

Keith zips himself up and turns back around, and it’s… awkward. Shiro’s still a little hard and his jeans look like a mess. Keith raises a hand to touch his throat and _ouch._

“Sorry.” Shiro says sheepishly.

“No,” Keith says, “I wanted it.” He did and he still does. It doesn’t matter if it’s a hassle afterward, Keith is _very_ into it.

“Good.” Shiro looks at him, then at the cabinet. He clears his throat. “Right then. Uh, I should go.”

It is late. Plus this weirdness is excruciating.

“Yeah. Same.”

“Here,” Shiro whistles and they wait for the pop of Kosmo appearing. “So you don’t have to walk through the crew.” His eyes are just off Keith’s face on his neck. It must look bad.

Kosmo gives them both a look, and Keith doesn’t want to say it’s _judgy_ , but it’s definitely something. He puts his hand on the cosmic wolf’s head.

They bid each other goodnight, and then Kosmo whisks him away. Keith doesn't know how he feels about what just happened. Doesn't know if he should feel anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to build up slow, but I'm so thirsty for the stuff that's coming!!
> 
> Next time: Shiro has a surprise for Keith, Keith has a surprise for Shiro.


	10. Comets & Rainbows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tags: oral sex, light d/s, subspace

The next morning Shiro wakes him with a gentle hand.

“Keith, wake up.”

Keith groans and rubs his face into Kosmo's warm fur. He feels a little hung over, a little off kilter having to see Shiro this early. “No.”

The laugh is soft and fond, but it only makes Keith feel petulant. “There’s a surprise if you do.”

Keith’s brain is slow to pick that apart. At first he doesn’t know what surprise Shiro could offer him that he could want and then…

Then he remembers last night.

He’s almost ashamed how quickly he perks up. He peeks out from Kosmo's fur, “What kinda surprise?”

The expression Keith catches on Shiro’s face is strange. Unguarded for just a moment before Shiro sees him looking, and it flattens back into his normal one. “A good one, come on lazy bones.”

“Lazy!” Keith says offendedly. All around there are hammocks full of snoring Galra.

Shiro laughs.

Grumbling, Keith extricates himself from the wolf who raises his head, gives them both a doleful look, and then goes back to sleep. “Who’s the real lazy one,” he shoots back at the wolf. “This better be good.”

“It is.” Shiro offers a hand to help Keith steady himself. Keith sees him eyeing the bruising on his neck.

Keith doctored it last night but it will certainly need a touch up this morning. “Alright shoo, I need to get ready.” Keith waves him off but then thinks better of it. He turns back to Shiro with a devilish grin. They both agreed last night it was _just this once_ , but Keith can’t help but bait the waters. “Unless you’d like to watch…?”

Shiro nearly stumbles backing off. “Oh I uh, I’ll wait. Outside. On the deck.”

Keith laughs a little too loud as Shiro retreats. It’s worth getting cursed out by one of the Galra nearby who’s trying to sleep.

Keith dresses quickly and covers his bruises, feeling far too pleased with himself. It likely won’t last, Shiro isn’t on his back-legs for long as evidenced by last night, but it’s nice to get one up on him for a change.

He still remembers the way Shiro said, _you’re such a tease,_ and it’s lit something in Keith. He knows they need to stop, that it really does need to be _just this once,_ but—

Keith takes a deep breath and pushes away the thoughts. If he keeps going round and round on this he will only work himself up and then be indecent to go out.

And Shiro’s waiting.

##

Shiro hands him an energy bar as they head down into the bowel of the ship. Keith figures out before they get there that they’re heading for the longboats.

“Captain cleared anchoring and sent some of the crew down to the nearby planet for food. They promised to bring back breakfast for the men, so that buys us a whole free morning.”

Shiro leads them past the empty hangers to one of the last skiffs in the back.

“I thought we might go out, do some flying.”

“What!” Keith hurries over to the boat, his excitement skyrocketing. “Yes! Finally!”

Shiro laughs and goes to stand at the other wench. Together they begin lowering the skiff from its roping.

“Easy kit,” Shiro says when, in Keith’s enthusiasm, he slackens his side of the line too quickly and the skiff hits the hanger edge.

Keith knows that Shiro doesn’t mean it like _that,_ but the only times he’s used that word was when—

He mentally shakes himself and waits for Shiro to catch up. He tries to pretend that one little word doesn’t have such an impact on him.

When the skiff is lowered enough to drop easily through the dock hole, Shiro steps into it and unfurls the sail.

“Ever sailed one of these?” He starts the engine, watching as the sails fill with glittering gold energy.

The skiff is exactly like Keith’s solarsail back home, just bigger. “Something like it.”

He jumps in after Shiro, and when the sail is full they both untie the last of the rope. The skiff drops down through the hole and then stops and hovers. They’re both seated at the back by the steering, and Shiro begins to point things out.

Keith hardly hears him. Suddenly they’re _out,_ and Keith hadn’t realized how much he missed this. That as thrilling as the ship is, there’s something so unique about being on a small boat or a solarsail.

It’s freedom and wildness and control. It’s piloting exactly as it’s meant to be.

Shiro is still talking but Keith is already grabbing at the steering, flipping the switches and shifting the skiff into gear. The second it's ready he jerks the accelerator, and then they’re off.

Shiro makes a sound of delighted alarm as they zip away from the ship.

“Something like it he says,” Shiro eyes him critically.

Keith grins and shifts into the next gear.

They speed through space, away from the ship. They’re close to a planet, likely where they’re restocking the ship, so Keith turns the solarsail the other direction.

Then he spots a small comet at a distance, a streak of white with a kaleidoscopic tail. Beside him Shiro tenses.

But Keith’s read the theory on surfing a comet. He’s never piloted in anything that cold, but he’s done plenty of rough terrain in the desert. He’s maneuvered sandstorms, canyons, hail, and on one occasion a solar flare that knocked most his engine. Keith’s a good pilot and he knows he’s a good pilot.

He’s not about to pass up this opportunity.

Shiro shouts his name as he speeds them toward the comet and Keith laughs, wild and free. His chest feels fit to burst as he kicks up the speed and Shiro has to grip hard at the railings.

Keith is quick to pull them up beside it. He keeps the skiff at speed and watches the ice cloud for an opening. Shiro says his name again in a warning, but it only emboldens Keith. He needs this.

There’s a lever for a quick collapse of the sails, and Keith reaches for it as he sees the opening. Shiro curses as the sails fold in and the bottom engine is the only thing holding them steady. Then Keith jerks the skiff sideways and slips into the stream of the comet. He pushes hard on the engine to maneuver around the ice and jet them up the stream.

All at once it’s like they’re in another world. Cold but beautiful, the ice refracts like a prism would on Earth and scatters colors all around them. Keith speeds them up the tail without coming too close to the rock itself. The ice dust bathes them in white and rainbow. It's completely stunning, like nothing Keith has ever seen before.

At the next opportunity Keith takes a second to look at Shiro who is grinning, metal arm extended to skim the ice as they speed by. He looks beautiful with the colors flitting across his white hair. Ethereal. Like he's meant to be here. He's so captivating it’s almost too hard for Keith to pull his attention back to piloting.

He does though and is sorry only that the terrain is so hazardous he can't spend more time sight seeing. He has to pilot. Keith stays in the comet until the cold starts to chill his bones, and even then he buys seconds longer. It's just so beautiful, a once in a lifetime experience. 

At the next break in the ice, Keith gives in to practicality and shouts for Shiro to hold on. Seamlessly he drops them out of the tail.

They fall easily without the sails, and Keith reaches down just as the skiff threatens to start spinning and releases the sail latch. The ship jerks back into proper position and Keith hoots in glee. He knew he had the skills, but it’s something else entirely to pull it off. Beside him Shiro laughs happily.

Keith spends the rest of the time showing off to a lesser degree. He pushes the ship into swoops and loops, spins them so fast at points they don’t even move in their seats. There’s no more worry from Shiro, instead the man guides Keith through maneuvers he hasn’t tried yet. He pushes Keith to go faster, turn sharper.

It’s exciting, Keith’s never met anyone who told him to go harder. Everyone on Earth was constantly trying to slow him down, trying to get him to act more _careful._

But Shiro just needed to know that Keith was capable, that he knew what he was doing with a ship, and then he let go of the reins entirely and let Keith do his thing. It’s a meaningful difference.

“We should head back,” Shiro says some time later when Keith’s zipping them through an asteroid field like he does the canyons back home.

It has been a while. Keith sighs and pulls the skiff up and out of the rocks. He turns the bow toward the planet and the distant speck that is their ship.

##

“Woah there!” Shiro says with a laugh when Keith pulls his side of the rope too fast and tips the skiff one way.

“You having a little trouble there?” Keith leans over to inspect Shiro’s slow but steady hoisting.

“Oi, I’m gray, not old,” he gives Keith a playful shove and then catches up.

“Coulda fooled me,” Keith says, tying his side up.

Shiro scoffs and ties his end. He moves across the boat and then leans into Keith’s space.

For a moment Keith’s heartbeat jumps and then Shiro grins, sly, and reaches instead for the knot Keith just tied. It comes apart too easily, not well done. “Sometimes taking your time is important though,” Shiro is still leaning over him, looking him directly in the eye as his hands fix the knot. “My grandfather used to say, patience yields focus.”

Keith swallows hard as Shiro pulls away to recline next to him on the secured skiff. “That’s not what you were saying earlier.”

It’s not a lewd comment but it still sounds like one and Keith flushes.

“I wanted to see what you could do,” Shiro says, “once I knew you could pilot.” He chuckles. “That was amazing Keith, really. If I could maneuver a skiff like that at your age—“

“You’re not _that_ much older,” Keith butts in.

“Still,” Shiro shakes his head, “you have a lot of talent, a lot of skill. Anyone who knows anything about piloting could see that.”

The compliment sits hot on the back of Keith’s neck. He shrugs, brushes it off. “They weren’t exactly singing my praises back home.” And then, because Keith doesn’t want to talk about that. “But I’m going to fix it.”

“Oh?” Shiro’s tipped back, his arms stretched up and folded behind his head like a pillow. It makes his bicep bulge.

“Yeah,” Keith looks away. “I’ve got plans. Gonna make it up to some people. Lance. You know Lance, his family practically raised me and,” Keith laughs deprecatingly, “I was a little shit. That’s what this expedition is about. Making it up to Lance and the McClains. They deserve it.”

Shiro clears his throat and shifts to sit up beside him. “That sounds great Keith. Just be careful, sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to.” Keith turns back to see him rubbing at his metal arm. “And it’s hard if you’ve put all your hopes on one thing.”

Keith looks up at the roping above them and then back at Shiro. He has that expression Keith’s seen a few times now. He’s beginning to think it’s earnestness or openness. It’s something Shiro doesn’t show except in moments like this.

Keith takes a deep breath and tells himself to be brave. He wants to know, wants to cup this thing Shiro is offering and hold it to his chest. “So, uh. How’d that happen?”

Shiro meets his eyes and then drops them back to his arm. He flexes the metal fingers and his gaze goes distant. “I was chasing a dream, it didn’t go as planned.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Shiro bumps his shoulder. “It taught me a lot. And hey if it hadn’t happened I wouldn’t have met you.”

It’s half a joke, a way to lighten the mood, but it also kind of seems like some of it isn’t. Keith doesn’t know how to respond to that.

That squirming gravity in Keith’s belly tugs. He looks at Shiro who is looking at him. Then Shiro’s eyes drop to his lips.

This time there is no slow trespass of boundaries, they both fall into each other at the same time. Shiro’s metal hand cups his face and tilts him at the perfect angle. Their kisses are quick to smolder, siphoning all that excitement of piloting into something more tangible. Shiro licks at the seal of his mouth and Keith gives in. He moans when their tongues slide against each other.

They’re filthy, covered in sweat and melted ice and dust, but none of it matters. Keith gets his hands on the front of Shiro’s shirt and pulls until the man is almost on top of him.

His back presses hard into the tail of the skiff, but Keith couldn’t give a single shit. Shiro is kissing him with brutal attention and he never wants it to stop.

Eventually Shiro does pull away though, and that's fine because that mouth trails back down to Keith’s throat. It’s just as good as it was before and at the first sucking kiss Keith grinds up against Shiro.

“Fuck,” Shiro hisses and grinds back down. “Not only are you gorgeous but you pilot like a marvel,” His human hand skims down Keith’s body and then grasps right at his hip. “You drive me crazy.”

Keith groans, “The feeling’s mutual.”

They grind against each other a little more, Shiro kissing down to his shoulder, before Keith makes a decision.

If he lets this go, they’re both just going to get off in their pants again. While that was great, this time Keith wants more. He just piloted them through a _comet_ , and that deserves something just as spectacular.

He pushes Shiro off him and back into the seat and then puts himself in Shiro’s lap.

“Okay?”

Shiro’s lips are red and he looks dazed but also interested in the switch. “Okay,” he says.

Keith takes both of his hands and places them on his waist. He loves how big they are, how Shiro holds him nice and possessive.

Then he weasels his own down and starts to undo Shiro’s pants.

“Keith!” The hands tighten and for a moment Keith thinks he’s going to ask him to stop.

But there isn't any more words and Keith gets Shiro’s zipper open and pulls out his cock. It’s already completely hard.

And massive.

Wow is it massive. _Stars._

“Is this okay?” He looks up at Shiro who can’t seem to take his eyes off Keith’s hand wrapped around him. He doesn’t blame him, Keith has long fingers and Shiro’s cock still manages to be a challenge to hold.

“ _Is this okay?!_ ” Shiro wheezes.

Keith blushes and then before he can lose his nerve, he slips off Shiro’s lap and drops to his knees. Shiro chokes.

Keith strokes him once, twice, letting his thumb smear the wetness at the tip. It’s not that he’s green to this but, as with everything else, it feels different when it’s Shiro.

“You don’t have to,” Shiro breathes, his human hand moves through Keith’s hair and to his ear.

“I want to.” He tilts the cock toward his mouth and licks his lips.

Shiro groans. “I can tell you now kit, I’m not going to last.”

Keith lets out an unsteady breath. He almost says that that’s okay because Keith isn’t going to either. His nerves are fizzling, too eager and too into this.

Instead he just bends and opens his mouth to take Shiro’s cock.

The first taste is salty, hot. He’s thick, so Keith goes slow, sucking at the tip and then letting it slide back over his tongue. Immediately Shiro’s hands grab his hair.

“That’s— fucking hell—“

Keith looks up and sees Shiro's head is thrown back, eyes closed. He’s trying hard not to move, Keith can feel that tension in his body.

But Keith doesn't want him to hold back. He liked it when Shiro took control before, when he moved Keith the way he wanted him. Possessed him. It does something to Keith.

He moans around Shiro’s cock at the though of it, and then flicks his tongue at the underside of the cockhead. The hands in his hair tighten and pull just ever so slightly before Shiro catches himself.

Keith bobs his head down, swallowing and working on on how to breathe with such a mouthful. Above him Shiro makes delicious sounds, his fingers tightening and loosening.

It’s hot and Keith wants more. He reaches up to put his hand on top of Shiro’s metal one. At the touch Shiro opens his eyes and looks down.

With Shiro watching he pushes their hands down to force Keith’s head down, humming when the cock brushes the back of his throat. For a moment his gag reflex flares and then Keith pushes past it. He clenches his hand around Shiro’s and mimes them pulling his hair.

Shiro looks dazed, and Keith likes it. He likes the power of it, that everything he does can push Shiro’s buttons.

“Is that what you want?” Shiro has that dark glint in his eye then, and it makes Keith shiver. “You want me to fuck your mouth?”

Keith drops his hand to brace himself once more and hums an affirmative.

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes and fists Keith’s hair. He pulls up and Shiro’s cock comes out of his mouth. “Such a pretty mouth.” He uses his human hand to move his dick back to Keith’s mouth, rubbing the cockhead across his lips. “And yet you can still take all this, huh?” He presses in just a little, a tease, and then pulls his cock back out.

Shiro does this a few more times, just watching his cock slide over Keith’s lips. Every time Keith gets just a taste of that saltiness. He can’t help himself when he sticks his tongue out the next time Shiro pulls out.

“Aw, are you hungry kit? Not giving you enough?”

Keith whines.

Shiro chuckles and grabs his hair hard. Pain dazzles at the edges of Keith’s peripheries as Shiro tilts his head. It’s good, so good that Keith gasps and his cock in his pants twitches.

“I should have known. Every time I’ve been a little rough with you,” Shiro eyes his throat that’s still bruised, “you can barely control yourself. You like it.”

Keith makes a pleading sound. He’s so hot with what Shiro is saying, with how those strong hands are holding him tight.

“You’re so perfect,” Shiro says, finally pushing his cock back into Keith’s mouth. “Every time I think there can’t be more there _is_ and it’s—“

Shiro groans, pushing in as far as he can. It’s a lot, _a hell of a lot_ , but Keith does he best. He _wants_ to do his best.

With a hard fist in Keith’s hair, Shiro begins to fuck his mouth. It’s a slow rhythm but building. Shiro is hard with him but also considerate, he avoids hitting the back of Keith’s throat when he thrusts in.

Saliva starts to drip out of his mouth and Keith reaches up to wipe it off but Shiro stops him. “Leave it,” he says, picking up the pace. “You look amazing, feel… _fuck._ Just let go, kit. Just let me take care of you, give you what you want.”

The words are blistering to Keith. He palms himself, groaning as he gives in, as he puts himself in Shiro’s hands. It feels so good.

“That’s it,” the man says. His eyes are glued to Keith’s face now, watching his cock fuck into Keith’s mouth. His hands are nearly tearing at Keith’s hair and it spins Keith higher, to a floaty place. “You’re so good.”

The words trip something in Keith, something he didn’t even know was there, and it spills inside him. It’s like his body has slipped away from him entirely and it’s _amazing._ Keith moans as he spills inside his pants, his orgasm flattening out every last thought in his head and leaving him white.

Shiro curses and his cock pumps once and twice and then begins to pulse. Sticky, salty come fills Keith’s mouth and without a thought, he swallows.

The sounds of Shiro coming imprint themselves in Keith’s head. He’s heard them before but this time is better. This time he can _taste_ it.

As he finishes, Shiro pulls back and his cock slips from Keith’s mouth. Keith blinks up at the other man a little drunkenly.

Shiro’s hands are soft on his hair, tracing down to his mouth. Keith feels far away from it, like he’s drifted a little too deep into his own body.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Shiro says.

Keith just blinks at him until Shiro smiles and reaches down, helps him back up to a seat. With a bit of his shirt Shiro wipes his mouth and then finger-combs his hair. “Can’t really do much about that at the moment though, I’ll call Kosmo when you’re ready to go.” He gestures down to Keith’s lap and Keith looks down to see a small patch of wetness on his black pants.

Oh.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling, Keith?”

Keith looks back up, Shiro is smiling. It looks like the sun.

“Good. Really good.”

“Good,” Shiro touches his cheek, his shoulder, rubs his arm. “We’re just going to sit here until you come down a little, okay?”

Keith hums noncommittally and then leans his head on Shiro’s shoulder. That’s good.

Shiro wraps his arm around Keith’s back, and that’s better.

“Is this your first time?”

Keith thinks this through for a little while. Has Shiro forgotten the other day?

“No,” Shiro laughs gently, “I mean like this, the rough sex. It wasn’t a scene but the way you look right now…”

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Keith says, because he thinks that’s the most relevant statement to whatever Shiro is trying to get at.

“Okay. Good to know. Well this is a high, and it happens sometimes with sex. We can, uh, discuss the more technical details later, but it’ll wear off. You just have to tell me if you start feeling bad.”

Keith nods. Already he can tell the spangly nothingness is beginning to fade. He feels calm, but thoughts are beginning to creep in.  “Was it good?”

Shiro pets his hair. “So good. You’re amazing.”

Keith sighs happily. He likes this, that Shiro is still here after they’ve had sex. That they haven’t had to retreat and pretend like it didn’t happen.

Then, they're interrupted by the sound of a distant, enormous explosion. The entire ship rocks hard onto it’s side as if hit by a shock wave, throwing them both into the bottom of the skiff.

Above them every alarm on the ship begins to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knock, knock, it's the plot!
> 
> There will be more dom/sub dynamic, but it's a loose framing device for the kinks. It will be better negotiated though because Shiro is all about that safe sex.
> 
> Next time: When they get to the deck, it's complete chaos.


	11. Supernova

Reality siphons back in too quickly for Keith to handle. He scrambles up just as Shiro is grabbing him and hauling him out of the skiff.

“What was that?” His mouth is sore and he’s still a little slurry with his words, but Shiro doesn’t even give him a second glance. He’s already heading for the stairs up to the deck.

Keith hurries to follow, squinting his eyes at the pain of the howling alarms.

They come up on the deck to total chaos.

“All hands to stations!” Allura is shouting to be heard above everyone else, standing at the bridge.

A second later Lance crashes into him, datapad in hand. “Keith!”

“What’s going on?”

Another wave hits the ship and it tips sideways. Everyone shouts.

“The star! It’s going supernova!” Lance drags him up to the bulward and points at a more distant star.

They can’t look near it, but the radiance is increasing, everything in the area is getting brighter and Keith can just _feel_ the power coming off it.

“Evasive action! Everyone activate your lifelines!” Allura shouts. “Axca, Zethrid, flare the engines. Ezor with me, Janka and Branko on canons!”

The sky bleeds red as the explosion begins to reach them. Keith can feel the heat of the star seeping in despite their artificial atmosphere, and when he looks up he can see the shimmer of the barrier under pressure. That's bad, very bad. The atmosphere is probably the only thing preventing them from burning.

Then, the debris starts.

Flaming meteors barrage the ship, bursting right through the atmosphere and burning holes into the ships. Above the sails begin to take damage.

“Secure the sails! Shirogane, Throk, Trugg!”

Keith turns to see Shiro and the other two Galra start for the sails. The ship rocks dangerously as wave after wave of force hits. The heat is now near stifling.

“Kogane!” Allura is suddenly beside them, hauling Lance away from the bulward. “Secure all lifelines and then go down to the longboats, Hunks coming in, make sure they’re paired!” Without waiting for confirmation she turns, dragging Lance with her, shouting commands in the other direction.

Keith runs to the main mast where the gravity hub is. They’re all wearing belts that, when activated, pair with the hub to hold them to the ship in case of emergencies. Keith activates it now and then speeds through checking each one, counting people on deck with active lines. They’re all accounted for, but there are no extra lines on, so anyone below deck isn’t hooked in.

He hurries then back down the stairs and toward the longboat. On deck he can hear the canons fire, the howling of wind and debris. He passes a window blown to bits and still smoldering.

Down by the longboats is a group of Galra. They’re hoisting in the boats and trying to secure them.

“Activate your lifelines!” Keith shouts. They do immediately and Keith tally’s them but still doesn’t see Hunk. “Where’s Hunk?”

“He went back out,” Sendak says, pointing through the bottom of the ship. “The last boat got nicked and Haxus lost steering.”

Keith goes to the dock hole and looks down. Sure enough there’s a boat with a few Galra and then Hunks huge figure. They’re outside the ships atmosphere and he can see the longboat smoking, missing complete destruction by millimeters.

“Hey!” Keith shouts. They’re close enough that they might hear him over the cacophony. Sure enough one of the Galra look up,, and then gets Hunks attention. “Lifelines!”

It takes a few seconds but then the men get it, he sees them reach down to activate their belts. Keith pulls away from the hole. “Get them up!”

“Working on it!” One of the Galra says.

Keith doesn’t have the time to supervise, he runs back up so he can pair them to the ships hub.

On deck it’s worse than before, but Keith ignores it for the moment. He has a job, so he does it. The last of the lifelines pair seamlessly.

Then he turns to look and it’s—

Everything is blood red, the sky ablaze in fire. The sails are secured so they’re no longer taking damage, but the ship is. The canons blast what they can but it’s just too much, it’s too much.

“Keith!” Shiro crashes into him, his eyes frantic. He takes Keith’s hand and then points just off to the side and Keith sees it, he sees their death.

Allura screams for all canons to fire and they swerve to do so but it’s almost pointless. The meteor is huge, triple the size of their ship and careening right for them. They hit it directly with the canons but it doesn’t stop, doesn’t so much as crack. Everyone stares in awe of it. Keith can't take his eyes off it as great as the fear is.

Just before it hits though, the momentum shifts. It pauses just before catastrophe, radiating blistering heat and then, impossibly, it reverses direction.

“What?” Keith says.

But it's not just that meteor. All the debris around them begins to recede.

“Captain!” A Galra shouts, “the star!”

Allura is there again with Lance beside her. “It’s—“ Lance’s voice is strange, so broken Keith barely recognizes it. “It’s devolving into a… black hole.” He says it like an impossibility, an inevitability. A truth so gobsmacking terrifying it almost cannot be gripped.

Except they can all see it. Before them the center of the star has gone completely black. Light around it has started swirling in a helix spiral, sucking inward. It's pulling everything toward it.

The black hole is beautiful and horrible. Keith squeezes Shiro’s hand that’s still in his. He’s so afraid that this is it, that he’s done this to all of them. He wanted an adventure, he wanted the glory, but not like this. Never like this.

He’s supposed to be making it up to Lance, to Veronica. And now...

“We’re being pulled in!” Ezor’s at the helm struggling to hold it against the pull of infinite mass.

“Oh no you don’t!” Allura goes to help but it’s a minuscule gain. Just as the engines start to make progress against the sucking gravity there’s a wave of energy that knocks them sideways and they slip deeper in.

“These waves are killing us!” Allura grunts trying to keep the help in place. Keith can practically hear the engines whine in struggle.

“The waves… the waves!” Lance beside them pulls up data pad, he shoves it in Keith's face.

“Not the time for science!” Keith shouts.

Lance ignores him. “No the waves, they’re mathematically rhythmic, just look at the data! They’re coming every 32.47*X seconds, where X is accounting for velocity and mass and distance, and the waves are increasing in strength according to the Principal of—“

“The point!” Allura cuts him off. “Lance what’s your point?!”

“They’re getting bigger. And I can calculate how often— wait! They’ll be one last one before we’re too close to the event horizon— we could…” He’s typing frantically on the datapad.

“Ride it out?” Allura says.

“Yes! Just a second and I’ll have the math done.”

“Sails.” Allura looks up at the tied sails. “Unfurl the sails!”

Keith goes this time, he and Shiro part to start untying. The sky is so bright it’s painful to keep his eyes open, but he’s dogged on the task. Even the air around them has a pull to it, their ship sliding further and further toward the burgeoning black hole.

“Kogane! Are lifelines secured?” Allura shouts when the sails start to unfurl.

“Aye Captain!”

There’s a wave then and the ship jerks hard. Keith crashes sideways onto the floor. Above he can see the swirl of red and black, promising a swift death should this not work.

“Allura! The last wave!” Lance is up near the wheel, eyes on his datapad. “It’s coming!”

“Everybody hold on!” She bellows. The light around them is draining, the ship sinking into toward the blackness. Shiro appears beside him and pulls him up. In one swift move he pushes Keith into the mast and then covers him, holding them tight to the mast.

Keith’s heart is hammering in the all-encompassing terror, but it helps. Shiro is warm and solid and real against the growing darkness.

“Shiro!” It’s a near sob when he looks up and can barely see the stars. He can’t imagine how they’re going to get out, how they can possibly survive this.

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” Shiro presses those words into his hair and squeezes him.

Around them everything goes completely black. He can hear Allura and Lance but it’s distant, like sound itself is being pulled apart by the gravity. Everyone holds tense, there is a muffled sound of terror from somewhere else on the ship.

And then a flicker of light right off the back of the ship. It starts tiny but rushes toward them. The sails fill with bright gold energy as it approaches. Keith can hear a horrific pressure sound as it happens, like the entire ship is being compressed.

It holds for just a second and then snaps. The ship rockets forward like a slingshot on a wave so strong it’s disorientating. They hold on but Keith can feel it's a near thing the way his lifeline yanks against the acceleration. They’re moving faster than the ship is designed for, and above the sails groan at their seams. The ship shutters trying to hold together.

Allura is shouting, but it’s all Keith can do just to stay conscious. He focuses instead on Shiro, on breathing, on the hope that they’ll make it.

It goes on for too long with nothing to cut their speed. Keith can't even move his fingers, so there's nothing to be done to slow them down. They just have to hold on. It's terrifying and sickening and Keith just wants it to be over.

Eventually one of the secondary sails does give, a hole cutting right through its center, and that’s enough. The ship slows enough that Keith can breathe again.

Allura calls for braking, and then Keith can feel the engines come on. It’s jerky, the ship having taken immense stress, but she holds together. When it gets down to cruising speed, the whole ship sighs in relief. Keith peeks out from the mast as Shiro slowly eases up against his back.

Around them crew are getting up on wobbly legs, untying themselves from mast or railing. Shiro steps back but offers his arm to Keith and he takes it. Keith feels nauseous and like a newborn fawn on his legs. His first steps are embarrassingly wobbly, but at least no ones looking.

“Exceptional work everyone!” Allura stands up on the bridge with Lance, beaming down at the crew. “All crew accounted for? Hunk?”

Everyone looks around, but Hunk isn’t there. Crew are still streaming up out of the stairwell, and Keith recognizes them as the ones from the longboats.

Sendak comes forward, “Mr. Garrett was injured in one of the waves. We’d been pulling him in but his lifeline wasn’t secured and… well luckily Axca was there to save him but… he is not well.”

For the first time Allura loses her composure. She dashes down the steps to them and pushes her way through the crew to the dock stairwell. Lance goes after her.

Everyone else stands in awkward silence.

The accusation sinks down Keith’s spine, _his lifeline wasn’t secured._

“I checked them all,” Keith says. “I— I did.” He turns to Shiro. “They were secure, I swear!”

But now all the Galra’s eyes are on them, and Shiro doesn’t move to comfort him, he doesn’t move at all. He just looks at Keith blankly and then out to the crowd around them.

He clears his throat, “Alright, everybody. Evening shifts for cleanup and rest. I’ll get some food on, just keep on until the Captain returns.”

Keith turns away, the hurt blooming in his chest. He rushes through the crowd and heads for the stairs down to the dock. It's not a good idea, but he has to know how bad he’s fucked up, he has to see the damage himself.

Below deck there’s a group around Hunk, so at first it’s hard to see. Keith can feel it in the air though, see the concerned faces and the smears of blood.

Allura and Axca slide him onto a grav-gurney and lift—

It’s _bad._

The complete right side of Hunk's body is burned badly. The smell that wafts up is almost enough to tip Keith’s stomach. He digs his nails into his palms hard and forces himself to bear it. He had one job and he fucked it up, the least he can do is look.

The crowd parts. Allura pulls the gurney toward the stairs. Her eyes flicker once to Keith and then away, her face is cold and shuttered.

After she disappears Lance puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “There’s a healing pod in Allura’s cabin,” Lance says, “I know it looks bad, but he’s going to be okay.”

Keith pulls away because he doesn’t want to be comforted. Just looking around he can see the blame on their faces. It doesn’t matter if Hunk is okay in the end, the damage was done. All because Keith couldn’t even do something as simple as securing lifelines.

He turns from Lance and flees.

##

Hours and hours later Keith gets sick of hiding out in a cargo room and he sneaks up to the deck to get to his hammock. It’s quiet on deck, lights dimmed for the night hours, few crew out. Everything’s been cleaned up, and the torn sails have been replaced. Looking at them now Keith feels more guilty. He should have been helping with cleanup, but he was too busy feeling sorry for himself.

He can’t do anything right.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Keith spins to see Shiro standing there. He’s looking at Keith softly, and it’s almost too much to handle after earlier. Keith scoffs and looks away. Shiro had his opportunity to back Keith up earlier and he didn’t. He didn’t because he doesn’t believe it.

Shiro steps closer. “I know you secured those lines, it—“

“No!” Keith hisses, shoving at the hand that tries to comfort. “No, I fucked up and everybody knows it. _You_ know it! Don’t stand there and _lie,_ I saw your face earlier. You couldn’t even look at me! And no wonder, I can’t even do the simplest of tasks.” Keith laughs bitterly. “I really bought it, you know? Thought for two seconds I could do this, could make it all right but—“ the emotions rise thick, and Keith can feel the tears burning at the corner of his eyes. He _hates_ them. He doesn’t deserve to cry about this.

Keith wipes at his eyes, furious. “Forget it, just forget it.”

He turns to flee, but Shiro’s hand wraps around his wrist.

“No!” Keith snarls, but Shiro doesn’t listen. He just pulls Keith in and wraps his arms around him. “No,” he says again, soft. Shiro pets the back of his head and holds him tight.  “No—o.”

“Keith,” Shiro says his name like it's precious, and it just shears right through the last of Keith’s barriers.

He collapses the rest of the way into Shiro, his chest heaving with a sob.

“That’s it,” Shiro says, hand carding down Keith’s back. “Let it out.”

Keith doesn’t have a choice after that. It’s too big to contain once he’s been cracked open. It just spills into Shiro’s arms.

“It’s not your fault,” Shiro says. “It was an accident and everyone’s going to know that. Axca got him and he’s resting in a healing pod now. It’ll take a bit but he’s going to be just fine, it was just a flesh wound and that’s going to heal right up. Everything’s going to be okay, Keith.”

Shiro goes on like that, soothing Keith through his crying with words and a steady hand rubbing his back. It makes Keith ache, in a different way. A way he’s never experienced before. It's scary but wonderful, just like Shiro.

Eventually Keith calms down and they’re just standing there, Shiro holding him tight and Keith eye-sore and drained.

“Sorry about… that,” Keith’s voice is a croak.

“No, don’t. It’s been a day, you’re allowed to be upset. But Keith," he sighs. "I meant what I said before. There’s a greatness in you, and an accident doesn’t change that. Nothing changes that. No matter how this journey goes.”

“Uh huh.”

“I mean it." he squeezes at the back of Keith's neck. "Someday you’ll get your moment to really shine and… well, I just hope I’m there, to catch some of that light coming off of you that day.”

Keith snorts into Shiro’s chest. “Corny.”

“But true.” Shiro pulls back. He smiles at Keith and it's small and soft and Keith wants to touch it. “So uh… it’s been _a day_ , would you want to maybe come stay in my room?”

“Your room?”

“Yeah. I have a private room, proper bed. Nothing fancy but I could uh, use some company.”

It hadn’t occurred to Keith before that Shiro must have a room. He’s never seen him in the common sleeping area, so of _course_ Shiro must have a room.

And after everything, somewhere private sounds good. Keith feels raw and he doesn't yet want to put all his armor back on. If he goes with Shiro he know that he can rest just a little while.

“Okay,” he says.

Shiro smiles, and then leads him down the stairs and to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a good time to mention that Keith is an unreliable narrator?
> 
> Next time: Shiro says it's not his fault, but Keith feels like he needs to earn forgiveness.


	12. The Word Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag added: spanking
> 
> **i promise this is light dom/sub, but this chapter contains Keith saying 'let me go' instead of the safeword, because he does not actually want to stop. it's framed as full consent, but here's a warning just in case.

 As it turns out, during the entire emergency of the supernova Kosmo has been hiding out in Shiro’s room.

The wolf nearly leaps into Keith’s arms when Shiro unlocks the door. “Hey! Hey boy,” Keith scratches as his ears and then under his chin. When the wolf leans in Keith just lets himself go the rest of the way and hugs the wolf. He’s big and warm and it’s nice. Kosmo licks his ear.

“I’m glad you’re safe buddy,” Shiro pets the wolf's head and then moves across the room.

Keith doesn’t mean to, but his eyes follow the other man. He watches as Shiro pulls off his dirty shirt and rifles through the drawer for another.

He’s never seen Shiro without a shirt, and the visual is a lot to take in. Without argument he’s gorgeous, huge and well-defined. He has muscles on his back Keith didn't even know _existed_.

But Shiro is also heavily scarred.  There’s the arm that Keith can now see has layers and layers of scar tissue where it's joined to his body. The scars spindle out from the site like a star, reaching across his back. And his back! There are dozens upon dozens of scars, most of which are white and completely healed, but a few of the big ones still look pink in areas.

Keith can’t imagine what would give someone crisscrossing scars like that, and so many. He can’t imagine how much pain that had to be. And Shiro's never even mentioned it. He barely makes a fuss about his arm.

“Alright,” Shiro has turned from his drawers with fresh clothes. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then you can go. Anything in the drawers you can use, unless you want Kosmo to poof you back to your quarters.”

Keith nods and the man goes into the bathroom.

The scars raise more questions then they answer, and Keith can’t help ruminating on them as he waits. He wishes he knew more about Shiro, wishes the man would share with him.

But maybe trust doesn’t come so easy for Shiro for a good reason. Maybe Keith hasn’t proven himself.

Surely today wasn’t a sterling example either.

Keith sighs and goes to the dresser to pick out something to wear. Everything is sizes and sizes too big, but Keith doesn’t want to go back for his own clothes, even if Kosmo could teleport him. He kind of just wants to pass out and forget he even exists.

He picks out a shirt and some sweatpants with a tie, and then takes a seat on the bed. Kosmo hops up beside him and puts his head in Keith’s lap.

They sit that way a while listening to the shower run. Keith’s mind keeps wandering back to earlier, seeing Hunk. He looked horrible, burns across his body, unconscious from the pain of it. 

And all because Keith couldn’t secure his line. Because Keith hadn’t gone back down to the dock to make sure that Hunk's line was paired and they were able to reel him in.

It's a careless mistake that could have cost Hunk his life.

Keith's own stupidity is staggering, and he feels the weight of the failure like metal chain looping and looping around his throat. He is just as everyone has always said, selfish, reckless, worthl—

“Hey,” Shiro’s voice startles him back. “You can… hey, you okay?”

Keith gets up, disrupting Kosmo, and takes his clothing to the bathroom. “Fine,” he says and shuts the door.

He takes a quick, scouring shower in which he drags the soap harshly across his whole body. The thick, ugly miasma in his chest grows and grows until he can barely breathe around it. He hates himself for his inadequacies, how he can't seem to help fucking up and now it's only getting worse. Now it's people _lives_.

When he gets back into the bedroom, it’s like a dark cloud over his head. He almost marches directly to Kosmo and demands the wolf take him to his sleeping quarters.

Surely he doesn’t deserve a nice bed after everything he’s done.

“Come sit,” Shiro says from the bed. Keith does, but purposefully takes the opposite end. “Listen—“

“I don’t need a lecture,” Keith snarls.

“No, you don’t,” Shiro says perfectly calm. “Because you didn’t do anything wrong. We talked about this.”

“Oh well gee, we talked about it, guess that’s it, all’s well!” Keith gets up then to head toward the door.

Shiro is quick to grab him and pull him back to the bed. “Sorry, I worded that poorly.” He sighs. “It just seems like you might still be blaming yourself and… can we talk about that?”

“About how it’s my fault?”

“About why you think that still.” Shiro says.

“Maybe it’s because it is!” Keith gestures wildly. “I had one job and I didn’t go back to check that Hunk was properly paired and being pulled in, and he got— got burned and that’s on me.”

“It was an accident.”

“Sure,” Keith turns away, but Shiro’s arm is still resting near his elbow, ready to catch him should he try to flee.

“Okay, lets try something else,” Shiro says, and grabs him.

In one smooth move Shiro hauls him up onto his lap. Keith squawks indignantly.

“I’m not really in the mood,” he says.

Shiro smiles at him. “If you want me to stop, the word is _Kosmo_.” They both look at the wolf who’s lazing about on the floor nearby. Shiro waves him off, “you might wanna go get your dinner for a bit.”

Kosmo eyes them passively, and then snorts and disappears in a flash of light.

Keith looks back at Shiro. “The word is Kosmo?”

“If you want me to stop.” Shiro says. His hands come up to Keith’s lower back and wrap around each side. “I thought about it in the shower, how to have the conversation with you. Every time you ended up smarting off.” The hands start moving slowly, up Keith’s sides and then sliding back down all the way to his hips.

The rhythm is in turns lulling and pleasurable. Keith doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Oh yeah?”

Shiro hums. “Imagine that.” The hands stroke farther: up the back of his neck and into his hair and then down, following his spine to tracing the shape of his ass. “So we’ll try this with some kinetic reinforcement. You have your word, but unless you say it, I’m not going to let you go.”

The hands tighten for just a moment and Keith nearly shivers. There’s something about Shiro when he’s like this that just gets to him. It’s possessive but careful. 

“Why are you blaming yourself for the accident?”

Keith frowns and goes tense all over . This isn’t the conversation he thought Shiro was talking about. He thought they'd be talking about  _them._ He huffs and instead moves his hips as a distraction. Anything’s better than this round and round, because clearly Shiro doesn’t understand.

“No.” The metal hand clenches on Keith’s hip to still him. Then the human hand swats him on the ass. 

Keith sputters in offense.

“Do you think someone got hurt because you did a bad job?” Shiro asks.

"Did you just...?"

Shiro ignores his question. “Do you blame yourself?” The human hand smooths back up his spine. “Do you blame yourself for a lot of things?”

For some reason, the question makes Keith think of his father. He shoves the thought away viciously and snarls, "Just the things that are my fault.”

There’s another smack on his ass. It’s barely anything, but the sensation once again shocks him. He glares at Shiro. “What the hell!”

But Shiro doesn’t rise to his ire, just looks back at him placidly. “Tell me Keith, when accidents like this happen, do you forgive yourself?”

Keith flushes hot. He tries to get up off Shiro’s lap, but the hands tighten and hold him down.

“Let me go!”

Shiro doesn't. “Use your word.”

It takes a beat and then Keith remember. _Kosmo_. Shiro won’t let him go unless he says it. It rises to his tongue, but then he looks down and sees those huge arms holding him, and he doesn’t want them to let go. He can feel Shiro's eyes on him, watching carefully, and he doesn't want to call it off. He wants to know where this is going. 

“No,” Keith says, and then confusing even himself he demands once more petulantly, “let me go!”

“No,” Shiro squeezes him for a moment. “I think I’m starting to get the shape of you now.”

“Hot-headed troublemaker, I _know,”_ Keith snaps.

Shiro’s hands gentle, go back to tracing his back. Keith doesn’t move. “Maybe on the outside,” Shiro says. “On the inside it’s something else. You push because you want push-back. I can push-back." His hands stroke in long lines. "So I’ll ask again, can you forgive yourself, Keith, for an accident that was not your fault?”

Keith squirms just to feel Shiro hold him tighter. His heart is galloping, confused and afraid and excited about what’s going on. Part of him wants to flee just as he did from Lance, but part of him wants to know where this is going. Part of him does want to push.

“No,” he says, clipped.

“Why?”

Keith closes his eyes tight. He knows why, but the words are thick in his throat. He needs… something to get them out.

“Fuck you,” he spits.

The smack on his ass comes swift, and this time Keith’s expecting it. It’s the first one that stings, and in that brief moment he gets a spark of clarity. It's beautiful. He leans into Shiro’s hands.

“Why?” Shiro asks again.

“Because.” Keith glares.

Shiro hits him again with the same strength, just a mild sting. “What do you need?”

Keith bites his lip and looks anywhere but at Shiro’s face. He feels like he's burning up, and he doesn't understand it. “More.”

“Good,” Shiro’s hands run up and down again. “Put your hands around my neck.” Keith does, looping them casually. “If you lose the word, pinch to stop. Okay?”

Keith’s fingers trace the slope of his neck. “Okay,” he says.

Shiro pulls him in a little closer. Keith goes easily into the solid warmth. Shiro smells clean, minty like the shampoo, and it helps. All that solidness pressed right up against Keith makes him feel more steady. Shiro leans in to speak close to his ear now, voice low. “Why can’t you forgive yourself?” 

The question still twists in Keith’s belly, dangerous. He wants to answer, he does, but he can't. He doesn't know why. “Because.”

Shiro’s legs widen then, and Keith realizes why a second before Shiro spanks him hard right across the bottom of his ass. The pain dazzles for a moment and Keith cries out, clutching at Shiro’s neck. It begins to fade just as quick, leaving Keith's mind as clear as water in a glass. It’s good, really good. He wants m- 

Shiro, as if reading his mind, spanks twice more in succession.

Keith gasps and tucks his head down onto Shiro's shoulder. The pain is deeper where Shiro's already hit, but it's good. Better. It doesn't fade as immediately, and the radiating ache makes him feel amazing. The knot in his throat loosens. “Because,” he says, pausing just long enough that he gets another smack. “Because I don’t deserve it.”

Shiro’s hands then turn to soothing and it rips apart Keith's barriers as if they're paper. “Why don’t you deserve forgiveness?” Shiro asks softly.

Tears spring to Keith’s eyes, but he knows it isn't because of the physical pain. He tucks his head closer to Shiro and arches his back in unspoken meaning.

Shiro delivers him another two spanks.

“I’m bad,” the words are small as they fall out of Keith’s mouth. He feels shame hearing them aloud. “I haven’t earned it.”

Shiro makes a soothing sound, hands running all over Keith’s body. “You’re not bad,” Shiro says. “A bad thing happened today. But you know Hunk is going to be okay, don’t you?”

Keith sniffles, nodding into Shiro’s neck.

“Good, that’s good.” His hands grab at Keith’s ass and Keith hisses as how tender the skin is. “Now let me tell you a secret.” There’s a kiss pressed to Keith’s throat and it’s so soft, so tender it almost breaks him. He takes a deep, stuttering breath. “What you’re doing right now is hard, it’s so hard, but you’re doing amazing. You’re talking about it, doesn’t it feel hard?”

It does. It’s so hard. “Yeah,” Keith croaks.

“So I think you've earned that forgiveness. It was an accident, and you can feel bad about what happened to Hunk, but it wasn't your fault, you aren’t bad.”

It feels almost true, but there’s still a pocket inside him that says it isn’t enough. That he hasn’t _earned_ it. Keith shakes his head.

“No, what?” Shiro’s voice is kind and patient.

“I haven’t earned it.”

“That’s a big thing with you isn’t it?” It isn’t said with judgement, Shiro’s tone is neutral as if he's just stating a fact.

Keith hums in agreement.

“What does earning it mean to you?”

And that’s just the thing, Keith never knows. Even with the McClain's he had this vague notion that he needed to _make it up to them,_ and it was only when the map was dropped into his lap that he found a shape for that urge.

“I don’t know,” he confesses.

“But we don’t think this is enough?”

Already the pain is fading, and Keith can feel the guilt seeping back in. “I need to… apologize.”

Shiro runs a hand through his hair. “For an accident?”

“I don’t know.”

“We only heard Sendak’s account of events, and I wouldn’t take what he said to heart,” Shiro says.

But Keith remembers all their faces, the accusatory looks. “But they all did.”

“Well fuck them, then.”

This startles a laugh out of Keith. “They’re your crew.”

“That doesn’t mean most of them aren’t assholes.” Shiro kisses the side of his head. “Really though, we don’t even know the details. Maybe Hunk knowingly stayed out, he was helping crew right?” Keith nods. “You can’t take responsibility for everyone and everything in the universe, Keith.”

It does sound a little silly the way Shiro puts it. “Just watch me,” he says.

Keith can hear the smile in Shiro’s voice, “You’re ridiculous.” Then he sighs. “Take it from someone who’s done too much of it kit, making yourself accountable for everything that goes wrong only ends badly.”

At this Keith’s pushes away so he can see Shiro’s face. He looks solemn. “Like what?”

Shiro reaches up and smooths the tears off his cheeks. “Another time maybe. This one was about you. Feeling better?”

Keith frowns, but then checks in with himself. The black feeling is still in him but it’s father away, smaller. He feels like he wants to do something to help Hunk, but it isn’t an all encompassing force of guilt.

“I think so.”

“Good. You look better, calmer.”

That’s true. Before he’d felt like a flame burning too hot, catching at everything around him. Now he feels smothered, but in a good way. It’s as if he’s been contained back inside himself, safe.

The feeling is different from when he tries to swallow it all back down himself. He isn’t overfull and pressurized. He doesn’t feel out of control.

“How’d you do that?” He’s a little in awe. It hadn’t taken that long, and objectively it hadn’t been extensive but— he feels now entirely different. Better in a way he’s never been before.

“It was all you,” Shiro says. “I just followed your lead.”

Keith stares at him, then at his lips. Gratitude rushes in so fast that he can’t help tipping forward.

Shiro meets him for a kiss, too soft and too cautious. Keith tries to pull him in, shifting to turn it hotter.

And then Shiro gently pushes him back. “Not that I’m not interested,” Shiro looks him up and down. “But it’s been… a long day, and I don’t want to mix what we just did.”

Something cold shoots up Keith’s spine. It sounds like a dismissal.

Shiro keeps his hands on him, soothing. “I just kind of just want to sleep. Here. With you. Is that okay?”

The bristling anxiety quiets. Shiro isn’t kicking him out, he just wants to sleep. It has been a long day. That’s fine.

Anyway, didn’t Keith say before that _he_ wasn’t in the mood?

“Okay.”

Shiro pecks him again on the lips and then helps him over and to lying down. Keith hisses when he puts pressure on his backside.

"Shoot, just a second I have some pain tabs." Shiro hops up from the bed and goes to the bathroom.

"No, no, it's fine." Keith rolls over onto his side and it is fine. He can feel a little heat back there, but it's nothing major. He sort of likes it.

Still, Shiro comes back with a glass of water and a tablet. He stares at Keith until Keith gives in and swallows it.

"All the water," Shiro says.

Keith rolls his eyes but does so. Shiro climbs back into bed.

Shiro's bed is wide enough that they're not touching, and as the lights fade Keith tries not to think about that. They're fucking, and they're... whatever that was earlier, but they aren't together. That would be crazy.

So they go to bed not touching, and Keith's fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Keith whump, okay.
> 
> Next time: Just two bros in a bed one foot apart because they're not gaaaay. (jk they fuckin)


	13. Storm in a Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tags: light restraints, rimming

Keith wakes to the lazy pleasure of kisses on the back of his neck.

“Just once?” He mumbles, cheeky. He can feel Shiro, huge and hot pressed up against him. Something flutters in his belly.

“Getting it out of our systems,” Shiro says. His hand slides down to Keith’s hip and then pulls him back against his cock. He’s hard. “And,” Shiro whispers, kissing just behind his ear, “I owe you one.”

The arousal is pouring quick down Keith’s spine, and he hasn’t a clue what Shiro’s talking about. He doesn’t care so long as Shiro keeps touching him.

Shiro grinds slow and dirty against his ass. “Will you let me take care of you?”

Keith’s cock is already throbbing. “Yes,” he breathes.

“Good kit.”

Keith swallows. He’s breathless just from the way that word hits him. It’s ridiculous.

Then Shiro pulls away and tips Keith onto his back. The man crawls on top of him. “Remember your word?”

It takes Keith a moment and then he blushes. Did that really…?

But yes. His ass is faintly sore, and he’s in Shiro’s bed, and he knows the word is, “Kosmo.”

“Good,” Shiro says. His arms wander back up Keith’s body to his shoulders and then down to his wrists. He encircles both and lifts them above Keith’s head. “Keep those there.”

There are rungs in the headboard and Keith takes hold of them. “And if I don’t?”

Shiro leans back down, mouth just missing his. Keith makes a sound of protest but Shiro only laughs softly. “Then I’ll have to tie you up.”

The shiver that runs through him makes him gasp. Keith grasps tight at the rungs, but he almost wants to let go. It’s only uncertainty that stops him. Would Shiro like it better if he followed directions?

_Fuck._

Shiro smiles wickedly, like he can read every thought off Keith’s face, and Keith has to look away. His face is burning.

He knows he’s in too deep. They really do need to stop this. Keith doesn’t even know if he can trust Shiro.

But he _wants_ to.

Shiro can touch him soft and then hard and it shouldn’t work but it does. He can do things with Keith’s body that even _Keith_ didn’t know about. It’s hard to say no to something like that. It’s hard to ignore their chemistry.

There just has to be limits. They’re obviously way past their _just this one time_ , but Keith can adjust. He can promise himself that this is just a fling, chemistry in close quarters while they’re on this ship. Just while—

“Now lets see,” Shiro says, sitting up on Keith’s lap to push his sleep shirt up.  

Keith’s still mostly dressed, but all of a sudden he feels _on display._ The metal hand caressing his hip moves inward toward his navel.

Keith squirms, in parts uncomfortable and ticklish. Its barely anything, but Shiro looks him up and down covetously and it makes him feel like he wants to cover up. He doesn’t understand it.

“Do you want to stop?” Shiro says when he catches his expression. His metal hand is cold, paused just above his belly button.

“No.”

The hand moves further up, pushing the shirt up and baring him. “What do you need?”

The question reminds Keith of the night before, when Shiro pushed and pushed until Keith was able to put it into words. _More,_ he’d said. He wants something similar now.

Keith arches to feel the weight of Shiro’s hand pressing down. A moment later Shiro’s hands stop teasing and become firm, heavy strokes across his belly. It’s perfect.

Shiro maps him this way, all the way up to his collarbones, bunching the shirt until it can’t go any further. He doesn’t speak, but he looks and touches in that same heavy way, and it grounds Keith. The unease falls away and then it’s just simmering arousal.

Shiro’s human fingers are the first to rub over Keith's nipple. A sound catches in Keith’s throat and he feels the zing of pleasure all the way down to his cock. It’s like every part of him is tuned to what Shiro's doing.

“Beautiful,” Shiro says. He pinches the nipple.

The arch this time is uncontrollable, his body already out of his control and responding for Shiro. When he looks, Shiro’s eyes are dark. He whines.

“I know kit,” Shiro says. His metal fingers move and rub at Keith’s lower lip. “I’m going to take care of you.”

He follows by pinching at each of Keith’s nipples and then grinding his hips down when Keith responds.

“Please,” Keith says.

This time it’s Shiro who makes a noise of impatience. “I always want to take my time with you,” he says, getting up off Keith’s lap. “But then I see you,” His hands reach for the waistband of Keith’s sweatpants, and Keith’s all too eager to raise his ass to help. “And…”

Whatever the rest of the sentence is doesn’t matter. Keith’s sleep pants come off and the relief is enormous. His cock flops up against his belly, aching and wet. His fingers tighten around the headboard because he wants to reach down so bad and touch himself. It would feel amazing.

Shiro touching him would be better.

But then nothing happens and nothing happens. Keith looks down to see what the issue is.

Shiro’s just staring.

Everything about it screams predator, but the prickling across the back of Keith’s neck isn’t fear... it’s anticipation. All of a sudden he's too hot in his skin, too wired just to lie there. His body arches again in need. Shiro’s not touching him and he _needs_ it.

“You are…” Shiro’s voice is black. He looks Keith up and down. The tension is like a miasma between them. On the bed Keith is spread out, more vulnerable than he’s ever been, but he likes what it does to Shiro. Likes how Shiro looks at him like he’s something marvelous and rare.

“I am…?”

Shiro blinks and then moves between Keith’s legs. His hands wrap around each of Keith’s thighs. It lights Keith up.

“Stunning.” Shiro says. Then he pulls Keith’s thighs apart to settle down between them. “I bet you taste even better.”

Shiro takes Keith's cock in hand and moves it toward his mouth. Quickly Keith looks away, taking a gulping breath. His cock pulses in Shiro’s hand and he’s too close to the edge already. He needs to get a hold of himself.

Except then Shiro presses closer and Keith can feel all that muscle under his thighs. Hot and hard, it makes him shaky. He says Shiro’s name in a plea for something he doesn’t have words for. The hands clamp tighter, holding him, and that’s exactly what he needs. He sighs in relief.

Then the hot wetness of Shiro’s mouth swallows him down.

"Ah!" Keith cries out at the intensity. When it doesn't stop he forces himself to take just one look. Below, Shiro’s eyes meet his as he dips down and sucks Keith’s cock deeper.

_Fucking stars._

Keith reaches down to touch, to try and convey how good it feels, but immediately Shiro pulls off.

“Hands,” he says.

Keith curses and moves his hands back to the headboard. He hadn’t meant to do that, hadn’t been thinking about anything but running his hands through that undercut.

Shiro takes him back in, humming against Keith’s cock as if in approval. Keith groans.

It doesn’t take much longer after that. Shiro sucks cock like a professional, pushing down until Keith’s cockhead hits the back of his throat. With the kind of dedication he puts into meals and shipwork, Shiro uses his tongue and throat, pulling out tricks that wreck Keith. Although it shouldn't be surprising at this point, Keith could barely hold out during the handjob, so he stood no chance here.

His orgasm gets close and Keith babbles it to Shiro, his hips trying to move against the firm grip Shiro still has on him. It’s good, _great_. He still feels surrounded, possessed by Shiro, unable to do anything but enjoy it. The idea gets in his belly every time and just does something.

Keith makes sounds without category, and Shiro sucks him. Both thumbs stroking against the inside of Keith's thighs as a counterpoint. Delicate while his mouth on Keith's cock is the best kind of brutal.

It’s so hot and Keith's so close. He opens his eyes to look just one last time and sees Shiro all the way down, lips stretched around the base of him. His lips are red, _wet_ , there's spit and fluid and--

That’s it for Keith. Keith comes in a pant of half words and sounds, ecstatic with pleasure. Shiro’s tight and soft around him, swallowing every pulse, coaxing it out with his tongue. It tingles all the way up his body and back down. He feels every swallow and lick, and unlike every other blowjob he's ever had, this one he lets himself enjoy. There's no questions or worries in his head about what his partner thinks or feels. Shiro is holding him tight, licking up his spend, there's nothing for Keith to think about. He's exactly where Shiro wants him to be.

When the waves of pleasure begin to settle, Keith collapses back down. Shiro slowly lowers him into the bed.

He lies there in a daze, staring at the lights above that are simulating early morning. His head is empty and wonderful.

“That’s one,” Shiro says, his voice throaty.

“Wha?”

“Hands.” Shiro says, staring pointedly where Keith’s relaxed them back onto his stomach.

“Uh.”

Shiro’s still down between his legs when he looks. His lips are red, swollen. Still way too attractive to stare at. “Actually,” Shiro says, fingers sliding up Keith’s thighs. “Maybe we should flip you over for number two.”

His hands stay firm as they move in and to where Keith’s cock is softening against his abdomen. Keith almost protests but then Shiro stops short and begins to scratch at the hair there. It’s a unique feeling to have someone touch him like that, and after the sensitivity it’s… nice.

“Two?” Keith says instead.

Shiro scratches up the trail of hair to his belly, then his blunt nails run up and down his torso. It’s calming and arousing, but not in the way that sex is. It feels more like a massage. Pleasant against his buzzing nerves.

Shiro hums. “I’m not done with you yet, unless you want to use your word?”

Keith does feel satisfied, and he could say the word...

Except he likes that Shiro isn’t done with him. And he’s pretty sure Shiro hasn’t come yet.

Shiro is still lying on his belly on the bed. The hungry, possessive way he keeps touching Keith tells him that _Shiro_ isn't yet satisfied.

Keith wants to see what that entails.

“Good,” a slow while spreads on Shiro’s face. “Then turn over for me, kit.”

Keith does, and then when Shiro taps his hip, he props himself up on arms and legs. Shiro keeps touching him all over, and it helps him feel safe even when he knows the position is baring him.

“Perfect. Now, do you think you can hold the railing or will you need help?”

Shiro offers both equally, Keith can tell, but he hesitates to answer. The words from earlier are still haunting him, and Keith sort of _wants_ to be tied up. He's tired of holding the rail and he's also curious.

But would that be bad?

“Don’t overthink it,” there’s a kiss against his spine, a heavy hand caressing him. “Just tell me what you want, there's no wrong answer.”

Keith drops his head down into the pillow, shy. “I, ah. Help.”

It’s excruciating for just a moment and then Shiro is whispering, _good kit,_ and reaching for the bedside drawer.

Shiro moves around Keith and then takes his hands, careful not to disrupt Keith's balance on his elbows. There’s a length of rubbery cord, like an exercise band, that he begins to wind around Keith’s wrists.

“This should be soft enough, but let me know immediately if there’s any serious pain or numbness.”

He ties it quick, good with knots of course, and then pulls carefully to check it has a little give. When Shiro’s finishes, he meets Keith’s eyes. There's a sweet peck dropped on the corner of Keith's mouth.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Keith says.

Then Shiro's gone, moved back behind Keith. He almost protests, but he isn't sure why.

Instead Keith takes a long breath in and out, and flexes his wrists. There's some give, but they hold tight. It's nice. Weirdly nice.

Shiro’s hands run the length of his spine again and then down to his ass. They pull him apart, bare him to Shiro and--

Then instead of fingers, there's a tongue.

 _Fuck_.

Keith jerks forward automatically in alarm, but those hands have a hold of his ass and drag him back. And that’s what really gets Keith. They tell him that he belongs here, that Shiro wants him, that everything is going to be okay. Keith just came, but arousal prickles across his skin.

Shiro hums and licks at his hole again.

“Shiro!” He tries to bury it into the bedding, but he knows he isn’t successful at the responding noise Shiro makes.

After that is a blur. Shiro licks and sucks and then even… tongues at him. It’s like nothing Keith’s ever experienced. In parts embarrassing and mind-crushingly hot, he pants and cries for more or less. He doesn’t know and it doesn’t matter, because he never gets anywhere near the safeword, so Shiro doesn’t stop.

He just eats Keith out like a delicacy until he’s writhing and his cock is hard again and dripping.

Keith collapses down further, his arms giving out. He tugs and presses against his restraints just to feel them hold.

It’s inescapable. He _loves_ it.

Shiro's metal hand slides around one side of his waist and then a cold finger touches his wet cockhead. It’s such a shock that a pulse of pleasure hits him. Keith groans, he’s close, so close.

_“Please!”_

Shiro’s tongue fucks into his hole and his finger slides so slow, so teasingly slow over his tip. It's smooth and cool and so uniquely Shiro.

Keith tries to thrust against it, but Shiro anticipates him. He keeps Keith just as he wants him, held tight. With mouth and hands he fucks and touches Keith just enough to drive him out of his head.

Keith whines for it to stop, for more. It all just begins to pour out of him. Here he doesn’t have to censor himself or think about the babbling falling out of his mouth. He can say yes and no and anything other than _the word_ , and Shiro will just continue to do what he wants with him. The freedom he feels in this space is an enormous relief.

It’s like being a storm in a box, where Keith can be as out of control as he wants, and nothing is going to get damaged. It's amazing.

Eventually the euphoria crowds out everything else, driving him right to the absolute peak. It's wonderful, and a cue for Shiro’s metal hand to close around Keith’s cock. He starts to stroke Keith firm and fast.

Keith's second orgasm is almost immediate. Everything crackles in his body, and Keith mewls as he begins to come. Shiro works him through it, tonguing his rim, jerking his cock. It's long and messy, but Shiro doesn't stop. He takes Keith all the way through and then eases off.

The comedown too is bliss. Keith heaves for air against the sheets, his head empty and white. Everything is dazzling and gauzy.

At a distance he can hear Shiro cursing and stroking himself. He's vaguely aware of wetness on his back. Shiro coming.

Keith smiles dopily.

Time sort of ripples around him after that. There’s a cloth across his skin washing, and then careful hands helping him roll back over. Above, Shiro is smiling tenderly as he unties Keith.

“Doing okay there?”

Keith smiles, words seem like a lot of effort.

That doesn’t bother Shiro though. The man finishes looking over his wrists and then settles back into the bed. He pulls Keith into his arms.

And that’s perfect. So perfect.

Keith closes his eyes and snuggles in. A nap sounds just right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow who knew writing a massive plot with intricate sex scenes mixed in was so much work? Also why is this already 30k?!
> 
> You'll notice we finally have a chapter total. HURRAY.
> 
> Next time: How's Hunk doing?


	14. Familiar

When Keith wakes up later, he’s alone. At first this doesn’t even register as unexpected because all of his life he’s been waking up alone.

Then the memories of the night and morning filter back in. He sits up in a rush, and then almost collapses back down at the dizziness.

Still his eye catches on the datapad beside the bed, it’s blinking with a message. Keith unlocks it.

It’s from Shiro, and in it he apologizes for having to go make lunch for the crew. He also says that Keith should take as much rest as he needs.

The message is short, to the point, and perfectly reasonable. Shiro has a job, and if he doesn't show up someone will certainly come find him. But an ugly something niggles under Keith’s rib cage.

Guilt from last night, he decides. He feels bad about Hunk, not that he woke up alone in Shiro’s bed. He’s not _that_ self absorbed.

It doesn’t matter that Shiro isn’t here because Keith shouldn’t be lazing about in bed anyway. There’s things to do on the ship. Responsibilities.

And there’s Hunk that Keith should go check on. The guilt may no longer be a crushing weight, but he still has to face it. He needs to see with his own eyes that Hunk is going to be okay.

Keith crawls out of the bed and finds Kosmo by the door. That’s at least the dressing issue fixed.

Kosmo takes him to his hammock and he changes. He puts on his gloves, jacket, and tucks his knife into his waistband. He needs the comfort they bring him, and the safety. The Galra might be more hostile toward him in the wake of his failure, and he doesn’t want to be defenseless.

Shiro having to save his ass once is more than enough.

When he's all dressed, Keith asks Kosmo to take him to the captain’s quarters.

##

Lance answers the door. “Hey!” Immediately he crushes Keith with a hug. “Dude I was so worried you left and then no one knew where you were.”

Keith hugs him back a little less enthusiastically. “I was with Shiro.”

After too long Lance lets him go, but only exchanges that for taking his hand and pulling him into the captain’s suite. “I’m glad you’re okay. It’s— Hunk's in the healing pod but he’s gonna be okay. It was an accident.”

“An accident because of my own negligence.”

Lance punches him gently on the shoulder. “No shut up, don’t do that. Like yeah sometimes you’re a dumbass who is going to give Veronica grey hairs, but a collapsing star… that is like, not on you.”

Keith shrugs and take a seat at the navigation table when Lance does. “You sound like Shiro.”

Lance snorts. “He been talking some sense into you?”

Keith clears his throat and tries to avoid thinking about exactly how the _talking_ took place. “Uh yeah. Some.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“But really, I’m glad you’re okay. That was so scary.” Lance fidgets with the datapad sitting there on the table.

“I’m glad you’re okay too.” Then a beat later Keith looks toward the two closed doors that lead off the main room. “Can I see him?”

“Yeah.” Lance gets up and motions for Keith to follow. “Allura’s been sitting with him, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

At that Keith pauses. He knew he was coming here and that he would see Allura, but now the reality of that makes him uncertain. The way she’d looked at him when Hunk was injured had been like a knife through his belly. One he deserved. He wants to apologize but he’s also afraid of what she is going to say. He is afraid of believing it.

“It’s okay, really,” Lance says when he notices.

Keith nods and steps forward. This is something he has to face if they’re going to move forward.

Lance knocks gently on the door and then cracks it open. He asks Allura if it’s okay they come in, and then must get an acceptable answer because he slides the door open the rest of the way.

The room is small, low lit, and fit to the gills with medical supplies. Two healing pods are side by side in the middle of the room, one of which is lit up.

Allura stands when they come in. She looks over Keith quickly, her face blank.

Keith steps up, meets her eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened. I didn’t do a good enough job and I take full responsibility for that.”

Lance sighs heavily beside him, but Keith keeps his eyes on the captain. Her face is unreadable as she stares at him.

Then her shoulders drop. “I understand the extenuating circumstances, Mr. Kogane, but I need you to understand the very real consequences of this voyage. Accidents happen, but we all need to do our best to minimize the fallout.”

“Allura—“ Lance starts to interject, but Allura raises her hand to silence him.

“No, I need to say this. Hunk could have lost his life and I need to be very clear on this. This trip is not a game, and when we mess up here it’s not just a mistake, it’s not just a run in with the police. A mistake could be deadly. I run my ships hard because I know the risks, I’ve lived them. I’ve lost a lot of people and I don’t want to lose anymore.

"I won’t know the full story until Hunk wakes up, but I want you to know I don’t just blame you. Something like this is a failure in multiple parts of the chain of command, and I blame you as much as I blame myself and Hunk. I think you’re strong and smart, and so I don’t think you’d believe me if I let you completely off the hook, so I won’t.”

Lance tries to interrupt again.

“But as Lance so kindly pointed out,” at this she gives Lance a long-suffering look, “I am biased because the person injured was Hunk. I wanted someone to blame because I was angry, but I hope you also believe me when I say that this was not your fault. There are a hundred things I could have done differently, likely there are a hundred things Hunk could have done to avoid being injured. Sometimes these things happen. The important part is that we learn and endeavor not to repeat our mistakes.”

“I won’t,” Keith says.

“I know you won’t.” At this she glances back at the pod with Hunk in it. “Now I’ll give you a few moments and then when you’re finished, Keith, I need to see the map once again. The supernova knocked us off course and I’d like this ship back on track as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” Keith says, then moves aside as Allura leaves.

The silence when the doors clicks shut is heavy. Keith almost falls into the chair she was just sitting in.

It’s better and worse than he had anticipated. His stomach is full of knots, and there’s sweat making his shirt sticky, but she hadn't yelled or screamed. Keith's been forgiven but not absolved. It's leagues ahead of what he thinks he deserves, but it's still hard to take in. The reprimanding makes him wants to lean in harder, use the sharp edges of her words to dig under his skin. His mind is already working to twist her kind sternness into something else.

Keith hates how quickly he starts to spiral. Shiro spent so much time and attention working him through it, and at the slightest provocation he feels like he’s slipping.

“You okay?” Lance asks, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Keith says.

“Wow, honesty.”

But Lance is not where his attention falls. Instead Keith turns to look at the pod. Beneath the glass is Hunk, eyes closed.

Already he looks better. The burns have scabbed over and many have already started stitching themselves together in pink skin. Keith knows what these pods can do, that Hunk will recover with minimal to no scarring. It helps and it doesn’t. The image of before is still in Keith’s head. Even small burns hurt, he can’t imagine how much pain the man had been in.

“Allura thinks it’ll be about a week.”

Keith nods. “I want to apologize.”

“Keith.”

“No,” Keith pulls his eyes away and looks at Lance. “I need to. I get… what everyone is saying. I just—“ it’s hard to put into words. He almost wishes Shiro were there to wrap his hand around the back of Keith’s neck, ground him enough to get the right words out.

“Okay,” and then Lance is pulling him up out of the chair and hugging him tight once again. “I’ll get you when he wakes. But until then give yourself a break, okay?” This he says into Keith’s hair.

Keith nods. For once he’s grateful for how touchy Lance is. Grateful that Lance can breach the distance even when Keith can't.

“Thanks,” Keith says as they part. He means it for a dozen reasons that he can’t explain. He’s just never been more grateful to have Lance.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to have siblings, a real family.

It’s strange that it’s never occurred to him in such a tangible way before. He’s lived with the McClains for years, but in his head he was always on the fringes. A guest. All of a sudden it’s like something has shifted and Keith can see it colored in a different light. The McClain's aren't just humoring him or putting up with him, they're his family.

Lance means what he’s saying, Keith can see it so clearly all of a sudden.

It’s almost too much to take in.

“No problem,” Lance says with a small smile. “Now go ahead and do the map for Allura, she’d feel better if someone stays in here with Hunk.”

##

The rest of the day goes much smoother. He unlocks the map for Allura and she takes notes to adjust their course and then thanks him for his help. They part with few words and then before he leaves Lance hugs him _again._

Once that would have annoyed him. He would have thought himself so pathetic that even Lance could see it. Now he can tell that Lance was worried, that he’s relieved that Keith is okay, that they’re both okay.

Neither of them had considered how difficult the space voyage would be when they left. They’d been a little caught up in the excitement of the adventure.

The reality is sobering, but Keith has never felt so close to Lance before. On the third hug Keith squeezes back and let’s himself feel it.

_Family_.

Lance looks pleased as punch when they part.

The rest of the day Keith spends in the kitchen with Shiro. It’s a madhouse after all the chaos. There’s smashed glass and damaged packaging as well as a full crew to feed. They barely have a moment to talk as they scramble to get the kitchen in order and everyone fed.

But Keith appreciates the busyness because he wouldn’t even know what to say. The sex was... something, and Keith feels a little embarrassed about it in retrospect. Shiro just brings things out of him that he doesn't expect.

And maybe that's dangerous. 

Keith knows he had been foggy and fumbling when the disaster struck, and it isn't a stretch to imagine his post-sex brain might have played a role in his oversight. Shiro is a little too distracting to him.

Keith remembers Allura's words and he has to agree with her. They all need to keep their head in the game and prevent anything like that happening again. For Keith maybe that means spending less of his mental and physical time with Shiro. He needs a better balance.

That evening when the food is cleaned up and the dishes are all done, Keith bids him goodnight before an opportunity to talk opens up. Shiro lets him go with just a parting goodnight.

Stupidly, it stings. Keith tries to shake that nonsensical emotion all the way back to his hammock, but he finds little success.

Kosmo is in his bed when he comes back washed and ready for sleep. It’s not the same as being curled up with Shiro, but Kosmo's warmth and soft fur does help ward away the loneliness he suddenly feels.

Keith knows he can’t go back to that bed, no matter how much he wants to. He needs to be more objective about the cyborg, and luxuriating in Shiro’s soft sheets is certainly not the way to do it. They’re sex friends, not real friends. Not b--

This trip is important to Keith, and the prize even moreso. It’s no time to be thinking about strong arms to wrapping around him or gentle kisses across the back of his neck.

He needs to focus on what's important. Lance, the map, the destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love a found family, especially for my boy Keith.
> 
> Next time: That night Keith’s woken by a hand pressing down over his mouth.


	15. Whispers in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tags: semi-public sex, intercrural sex

 Everything is more or less back on track the next day. Without Hunk, Acxa has been given second in command, but in actuality she runs the ship since Allura has continued to spend large pockets of time below deck. Keith thought he would be more worried about a Galra in charge, but Axca runs, if possible, an even tighter ship. Even Sendak follows her orders without comment.

The ship gets back to normal. Keith and Shiro make meals, clean, and help with tasks around the Castle of Lions.

While on deck Keith begins to get looks from the Galra once again. It seems all his goodwill from the Axca incident has been spent, and that’s fine. It hadn't been something he had expected to keep.

Instead Keith makes sure his jacket, gloves, and knife are on him at all times. He'll be ready if anything else happens.

Or at least that's what he thinks.

That night Keith wakes to a hand pressing down over his mouth and a body climbing up into his hammock.

Immediately he thrashes up out of sleep, grabbing for his knife under the pillow to blindly stab at his assailant. The hammock swings haphazardly for a moment and almost tips them.

“Woah, Keith! It’s me!” The hand that catches his knife is metal, and it belongs to Shiro.

Keith’s eyes adjust then just enough to see. Indeed Shiro is tucked behind him, holding Keith’s knife while his human hand is covering Keith’s mouth.

“Sorry,” Shiro takes his hands away and Keith lowers the knife. “I didn’t think that through clearly.”

“Clearly!” Keith hisses. His heart is still pounding, the unused adrenaline vibrating in his veins. “You can’t just sneak up on someone in the middle of the night!”

“Yeah,” Shiro whispers. “Sorry.”

Keith returns the knife to beneath his pillow, propping himself up in the hammock so he can look at Shiro. He’s wide awake now, but by how low the lighting is he suspects it must still be the middle of the night. “What’s up?”

But before Shiro can answer, the obvious occurs to Keith. Shiro’s arms are still around him, and the hammock has forced Keith to press up all against Shiro.

And Shiro’s hard.  

“Uh.”

Keith almost laughs. “Did you seriously come to my bed, chase Kosmo out, and almost get knifed just because you’re horny?”

“Well when you say it like that—“ Shiro’s voice is indignant.

“You mean exactly how it is?”

“Keith,” Shiro whines into his shoulder.

Keith doesn’t want to find it cute, but it kind of is. Keith hates him for it. Thinking Shiro is scary or hot is fine, but 'cute' is something else entirely. Something infinitely more dangerous. Just yesterday Keith was just telling himself he wasn't going to go there. He won't.

Then Shiro kisses that spot on his neck, and Keith gets a little lost. He tells himself it's just the adrenaline turning into desire. He tells himself that this technically isn't him going to Shiro's bed. This is something else entirely.

Wait. No.

But his body is telling him that Shiro’s warm, curled up around him, and his cock is pressing into Keith’s ass and—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith breathes.

Shiro mumbles happily into his hair, squeezing him. “Sounds good to me.”

Keith does snort then. “I can’t believe you kicked Kosmo out.”

Shiro’s human hand creeps down Keith’s torso, plucking at the band of his sleep shorts. “He had you all of last night.”

A pleasant shiver runs down the back of Keith’s neck. It’s hard to tell whether it’s the words or the way Shiro is sucking a possessive kiss on his throat.

“Are we still getting this out of our system?”

Shiro’s fingers dip down beneath his shorts, scratching at the trail of hair leading to his cock. “Mhmm.”

This is where Keith should protest, should tell Shiro to go. He should make it clear that there are boundaries, that it feels like sometimes they are crossing them and blurring lines neither of them can afford. But then those fingers wrap around Keith’s hardening cock and his better judgement leave him.

He sighs, grabbing at Shiro’s metal arm. He’s reminded then that they’re in a public space. It’s silent with only the breathing and snores of Galra around but—

“Shiro we can’t,” Keith whispers. It's the only angle left to make his case. They can't because they're in public. Good. Keith can stick to that.

“Why not?” Shiro doesn’t stop exactly, but he does slow his kisses.

“Someone will hear.”

“Everyone’s asleep.” He kisses Keith’s ear, his fist starting to move slow on Keith’s cock. “And they’ll stay asleep,” this Shiro whispers low and filthy into Keith’s ear, “if you’re very quiet kit.”

Keith bites down on his lip to swallow the sound that rises in his throat. It's anything but another protest.

“Shiro,” it’s barely a breath, the smallest sound on his lips.

“You have your word.” Shiro grinds into him, thumb smearing across the wetness at the tip of his cock. “Otherwise you’re all mine.”

Keith knows Shiro would let him go with just that one word, but Keith’s too weak to speak it. He wants this too much. Boundaries and public decency be damned.

A beat of silence passes, and then another. When Shiro’s confident that Keith isn’t going to stop them, he pulls his hand back and works down Keith’s shorts.

Keith’s hammock is in the corner, and it’s far too dark to be seen, but being suddenly bared makes him flush hot. If the lights went on it would be unavoidable, everyone would know what they were doing.

There’s some further shuffling from Shiro behind him and then bare skin slides against Keith’s ass.

For one exhilarating, terrifying moment Keith thinks they’re finally going to do it, but then Shiro presses up against him once more. His cock slides right between Keith’s thighs. A cap clicks and then the hand that touches Keith is wet and slippery. It feels amazing, and he can’t help the sound he makes.

“Shh,” Shiro mumbles.

There’s a nibble at his ear and then Shiro’s hand moves down to lubricate his own cock between Keith’s thighs.

“Now tighten,” Shiro says when he finishes. Keith has to shuffle slightly to get his hips at the right angle, but then he presses his legs together.

Shiro groans into his ear and then moves his hips. His cock fucks into the tight, hot space that Keith has made. In turn he wraps his fist back around Keith’s cock and begins to stroke.

It’s as close to proper fucking as they’ve ever been, and Keith isn’t prepared for how that idea ruins him. Shiro is a line of muscle behind him, metal hand holding one of his hips as he pulls Keith a little into each stroke. Keith can only imagine how it would be if Shiro were inside him. If he were dragging Keith back with both hands onto his cock. Splitting Keith open in a way he’s never been before. All that strength and desire, fucking Keith hard while he presses delicate kisses into his nape.

“ _Shiro_.”

“That’s it. _Ah._ ” Shiro’s voice is so close and so quiet. It pours into Keith doing more damage than the hand that strokes him diligently.

“You can,” Keith gasps as the cock slides through his thighs and grazes his balls, “you can fuck me. Really. I want— want it.”

Shiro pulls him back hard, burying a snarl against Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t tempt me.”

Keith’s pinballs between thrusting into the hand and back onto Shiro’s cock. “Not,” he whispers, “you can fuck—“

That’s as far as he gets before Shiro's metal fingers have moved and slipped into his mouth.

“ _Stars,_ you drive me crazy,” Shiro whispers. “I was laying in bed earlier and all I could think of was when I had you there. I told myself I wouldn’t come, that I would wait for you to make the next move, but every time I closed my eyes it was your lips and your hips and your,” his fingers swirl around the head of Keith’s cock which is embarrassingly slick, “your cock. You’re in my head and I can’t seem to get enough.”

He’s fucking faster between Keith’s thighs now, but still mostly teasing Keith with his hand. Keith moans around the metal fingers, sucking them hard in protest.

Shiro swears. “There’s something about you,” the sound of their coupling is undeniable in the room. It’s not loud, but the slick sound couldn’t be anything else.

Keith feels overheated, both embarrassed and turned on. He doesn’t want anyone to discover them, but he also kind of does. He wants the Galra to see the bruises from Shiro’s lips and the covetous way Shiro holds him tight, thrusting between his legs. He wants the Galra to know that he’s with Shiro, that he’s Shiro’s.

He bites the fingers in his mouth at the thought. They’re metal with no give, so Keith doesn’t have to feel sorry, but he still hopes that Shiro can feel it. He wants Shiro to know how worked up he is. How into everything he is.

“That’s it,” Shiro croons, “just let go.”

Keith can feel that now familiar fuzziness at his edges. It’s the gorgeous floaty feeling that only Shiro can seem to give him. He feels held, safe like he did in the bed. Shiro has him and is working his cock with a firmer stroke now. He’s slippery with precome and lube and he just wants—wants—

He lets go, crying out as the fingers in his mouth pull away to stifle him. If Keith’s too loud, he doesn’t notice because he doesn’t have to care. Shiro covers his mouth with a palm and handles it. Handles Keith. All Keith does is let himself fall into the pleasure. His body moves without conscious thought, just the way Shiro wants him. He spirals higher and higher, fucking into the fist, keeping his thighs tight around Shiro.

Shiro whispers nonsense to him, half words and curses and praise. His cock pushes hard between Keith’s thighs, smearing lube against his balls.

Keith can’t see, but he imagines what it looks like. How big Shiro’s cock must look slipping between his legs. How red and throbbing. Keith squeezes his thigh muscles tighter, because he wants to make it good, wants to _be_ good for Shiro. He wants Shiro to feel the way that Keith does right now, wild and excited and near breathless.

“Keith!” Shiro hisses it like a man possessed, fucking Keith hard and striping his cock at the same time. He sounds desperate, feels desperate the way he moves them. The thought that he might be, that maybe it is exactly the same for Shiro is all it takes.

Keith comes, muffled behind the metal hand. Shiro slows but doesn’t stop, working his fist up near the crown. Keith comes and comes, and he can feel the hot mess as it coats Shiro’s hand and makes the handjob filthy. He mewls even if it can’t be heard, his whole body throbbing with the pulses of pleasure.

Shiro grunts, thrusting against him and then there’s a hot spill across Keith’s thighs. Shiro fucks through his come, panting at the pleasure of it, at how slick and messy Keith is. Gradually it slows and then stops.

It’s electrifying, strangely hot even as Keith’s orgasm fades.

The hand comes off Keith’s mouth and he gulps cool air for his overheated body. The room— no, the hammock is swaying. It reminds him of being drunk.

Keith grins at the thought. Drunk on Shiro.

His thighs are messy as well as his abdomen and Shiro’s hand resting on his hip.

Shiro kisses his shoulder. “Okay?” He whispers.

Keith hums pleasantly. Doesn't move. He feels amazing.

Some time must past after that because when Shiro tugs at his shoulder, Keith has to rouse himself from a drowse. 

“Keith, I have to go.”

None of that makes sense to Keith. He’s still half asleep and more than a little glazed. “What?”

“I have to go.”

Keith blinks and blinks, but the words don’t fit together.

“What?”

Shiro makes a sound that’s hard to categorize. “I can’t stay. I know you’re still… but it’s okay because you’re just going to go back to sleep.”

Keith makes a noncommittal noise at all the sounds.

It’s only when Shiro goes to get up from the hammock that alarm bells start in his head. “Wait!”

“Shhh,” Shiro gets on his feet but leans over to kiss his forehead. A hand runs through his hair. It feels nice. “Close your eyes.”

That one works for Keith. He does.

“Good,” Shiro’s voice is warm, indulgent. The hand continues to stroke his head. It’s good.

After that, whatever happens doesn’t concern Keith. He drifts back to sleep to the steady presence of Shiro petting his hair, the low sonorous voice telling him to rest. He does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro made a no-no here leaving his boy when he's compromised. Wonder if that's gonna come back to bite him...
> 
> For those of you wondering, I promise the plot and angst is coming so soon, I just love to spend indulgent time building their relationship. Also hot sex scenes.
> 
> Next time: Let's talk about sex baby, let's talk about you and meeeee.


	16. Entanglement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tags: subdrop

 Keith wakes up with wolf hair in his mouth, and instead of being amused he’s vaguely annoyed. There’s nothing _wrong_ , per say, but he can feel the bad mood growing as he climbs out of the hammock. It doubles when he has to take to shower because his thighs are still slightly sticky.

He scrubs and dresses and covers the fading hickeys. Everything this morning is annoying.

Kosmo follows him down to the kitchen, and then takes up his spot in the corner. Surprisingly Shiro isn’t there yet even though Keith is late. The time is creeping quickly now toward breakfast, something should at least be started.

Keith sighs and gets out the oatmeal-like porridge. _Someone_ has to be responsible if Shiro’s going to sleep in. He grumbles to himself as he does so. Obviously Keith's getting aggravated for no reason, but he just can’t manage to reign in it. It's like a stone in his shoe he can't shake loose.

By the time that Shiro does show up, Keith is prickly, short, and barely looks at him.

“I’m sorry—“ Shiro says when he comes back from breakfast rounds.

“It’s fine.” Keith waves him and then they do the dishes. Shiro is looking properly apologetic, but Keith doesn’t even want it. He doesn't know what he wants.

“You’re mad," Shiro says when they're finally on a break.

“Just woke up in a bad mood.” Keith says.

“Oh.”

It’s long day after that. Shiro is overly-attentive in his silent apology. He lets Keith off for lunch and prepares one of Keith’s favorites. Keith is so moody he can’t even rise to argue about being pitied, so he goes to sit with Kosmo until food is ready.

Somehow though, through the course of the day, it works. Millimeters at a time Shiro moves the needle of his mood. He caresses Keith’s back when he passes, gives him chocolate treats and sweet drinks, tells him dumb alien jokes, and even sings an embarrassingly off-tune shanty as he cleans the kitchen.

By the time they’re finished with dinner and are drying the dishes he’s gotten Keith softened enough to wrap his arms around.

Which is what he does the moment the last pan goes back into the cupboard. “I’m sorry you had a bad day,” Shiro says, kissing his neck. His arms are tight around Keith’s middle, and they’re still in the middle of the kitchen.

Keith glances toward the stairwell, but it’s dark and vacant. It’s late and there’s no one to see them. “Sorry I was a grouch.”

“No apologies needed, it was kind of fun figuring out how to diffuse a bomb.”

Keith makes a sound of offense and tries to elbow him, but Shiro laughs and just squeezes him tight. “Rude.”

“I kid, I kid. We all have bad days,” the metal fingers pluck at Keith’s shirt. “I’ve had more than my fair share. It’s nice to be able to fix someone else’s.”

It reminds Keith of how much he doesn’t know. The time in the skiff when Keith had asked about the arm, Shiro’s answer had been vague. Guarded. Keith wishes he knew how to get up under that metal guard Shiro keeps up.

It’s starting to feel like he’s the only one being taken apart bit by bit. Shiro says a lot of things during sex, but they don’t quite translate outside of bed. He’s holding Keith right now but that intimacy somehow feels shallow.

It’s like Keith's missing something.

He doesn’t want to notice, but it’s all he keeps seeing. He doesn’t want to care, but he does.

“So,” Shiro’s hand crawls down his belly to the button on his pants. “What do you think about coming back to my room, ending the day on a high note?”

Shiro’s breath is hot on his neck, and if Keith isn’t mistaken he’s half hard where he’s pressing up against Keith. It… makes it hard to think.

“Uh,” Keith breathes it as the kisses start up his neck. Shiro’s fingers brush down across the front of his zip where his cock is too taking an interest.

He can’t go back to Shiro’s bed though. He’s already too compromised. The mood he woke up with may be gone, but the day has left him drained. If he goes to Shiro’s bed there’s a chance it won’t just be sex, that his stupid head and stupid heart are going to slip.

Keith can’t afford it. He was _just_ promising himself he wouldn’t. Eyes on the prize.

“I want to make you feel good,” Shiro says. Keith takes an unsteady breath.

The killing blow though is when the man leans just a little further in, and kisses Keith’s cheek. It’s too soft and too sweet.

“Okay,” Keith says.

##

They practically stumble in the door to Shiro’s room, groping and kissing and grinding together. Shiro presses him up against the wall when the door locks, and licks into his mouth. Keith moans and clutches at him, allowing himself to be plundered.

Shiro tries to talk, snippets of words that Keith kisses from his lips, and then he gives up all together. They thrust against each other, pulling and tugging at too many layers of clothing. Keith is quick to dump his jacket and knife, and when he tears his mouth away from Shiro's it is only to get them spinning toward the bed.

They hit a chair, a doorway, and a side table in the clumsy way they can’t keep their hands off one another. Keith rips the buttons off Shiro’s shirt before they make it to the bed just so he can score his nails down the mans chest.

Shiro curses and gets Keith’s shirt up over his head, and then brings it down to his wrists and twists it.

“Wha?”

Shiro grins, eyes dark and expression hungry. He shoves Keith backwards.

For a moment Keith feels the sudden terror of falling. His arms are bound in his shirt, trapped behind him, and he cannot break his fall. But then he lands, breathless, on the bed.

“Don’t worry kit,” Shiro says as he crawls up over Keith’s body, “I’m going to take good care of you.”

Keith nips Shiro’s bottom lip just to be petulant. The man hums and then dips back into his mouth.

They kiss messily and a little wild. Keith struggles to get his hands free mostly so that Shiro will drop his weight down further and pin him to the bed. When their hips come back together, Keith sighs.

“Wicked little thing,” Shiro says when they break. He stamps a kiss on the corner of Keith’s mouth.

“Your fault,” Keith snarks.

“Oh is it?” His hands slide down and wrap around Keith’s hips, they pull him up off the bed and grind them together.

“Shiro!”

Then Shiro drops him back down. Sucking kisses wander across his throat. “Just can’t help myself,” he says between them. “Taste so good.”

Already Keith is dizzy with the arousal. It’s addicting and he wants more, never wants it to stop. “ _Please_.”

Shiro’s mouth stops at his collarbone, licking at the sweaty skin. “Please what?” There’s a kiss and then another a little lower.

Keith huffs, annoyed. The answer he gives is to grind up into Shiro.

“Hmm,” There’s tongue and a nibble on Keith’s chest and then—

Keith cries out, his whole body lighting up when Shiro licks his nipple.

“You’re so sensitive here.” There’s teeth and Keith can’t stifle his sounds. “I love it.”

“Fuck me,” Keith gasps. It’s all he wants suddenly. He needs Shiro inside him, hard and demanding, his kisses soft and—

Shiro groans and sucks at his other nipple. His hands are already working on tugging down Keith’s pants.

Keith does his best to assist and between the two of them they manage to get out of the rest of their clothes. If you don’t count Keith’s shirt of course, it’s still acting as a binding.

Then Shiro pulls Keith up to sitting. He kisses him soft, hand scratching up the back of Keith’s neck. “This time,” Shiro whispers, “a change of position I think.”

The man flops back down on the bed, putting his naked body on display.

_Fuck._

By now Keith should be somewhat immune to Shiro’s looks, but he isn’t. Shiro is huge, built like tank, and the scars that crisscross his body only add to his rugged allure. The cock that lies heavy on Shiro's belly makes Keith’s mouth water.

Shiro grins and taps his abdomen. “Come here kit.”

“H—here?” His face must be burning, because he can barely swallow around the knot in his throat. It’s hard to believe he’s even here, that this specimen of a man _wants_ him.

Shiro’s metal hand touches his knee, drawing him forward. Automatically Keith sits up on his knees, unsteady without the use of his hands. Shiro helps in the barest capacity to nudge him forward. He doesn’t actually assist Keith in keeping his balance, and it occurs to Keith as he straddles Shiro’s lap, that that is probably the point.

Keith’s turned on and clumsy, but Shiro wants to see that. He wants to watch Keith on his knees, climbing up onto his lap.

When Keith sits down on Shiro’s thighs, the satisfied look on Shiro’s face confirms his suspicion. “You just wanna see me fall on my face.”

Shiro’s hands come to his thighs and widen them a little. The muscles of Keith's thighs are already burning from the span of Shiro's hips. If he weren’t panting already, this thought would do it to him.

“I would never let you fall.”

Keith’s stupid heart flutters.

“Come here,” Shiro commands again, but this time the metal hand is there to guide Keith down until their lips meet. The kiss is soft, far too soft for Keith’s heart. He’s wildly off balance, supported just by Shiro, and it’s ruinous. Shiro kisses him like he matters, like he’s precious. Keith is just clay in his hands.

They part to breathe, but Shiro doesn’t go far. His eyes flutter open to look at Keith and—

“Keith,” Shiro says. The heat is still simmering between them, but it’s different then. Heavy.

“Yeah?”

Shiro opens his mouth and then closes it. Then, “would it be foolish to wish we had met outside of this ship?”

Keith gives a sort of confused shrug. “No. But we won’t be on this ship forever.”

It’s painfully earnest and too transparent. Keith would never admit he's wondered about their after. About what is possible for them when the journey is over. That would be ridiculous. He wishes he could take the words back.

Shiro looks away then, and the sting is mortifying.

“I— I mean, if that’s… something. Uh, you know, in the future—“

Shiro kisses him to stop the fumbling words. “We won’t be on this ship forever,” he agrees. For some reason he sounds sad.

Before Keith can question it, he’s being pushed back up to sitting.

“But we’re getting off track,” Shiro says, and then takes his cock and Keith’s in hand. “I promised a good night.”

The metal hand moves his hips forward, scooting Keith up just an inch or so. Their cocks line up and Keith gasps. He’s known Shiro’s… well endowed, but it’s something else to see it right up against his.

Especially when Shiro’s fist starts jerking them together.

“Ah!”

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro sighs. He smears their cockheads together, using the wetness to slick them. It would be embarrassing how much Keith’s leaking if it didn’t feel so good.

“Just look at you.”

Keith’s eyes flutter open. He doesn’t know when he closed them. Except, yes, it was definitely for good reason. Watching their reddening cocks peek out of Shiro’s fist is… a lot. Shiro’s burning and his skin is velvet soft. Every time the ridges of their cocks catch it sends a spike of pleasure up Keith’s spine.

Shiro looks at his face and then down to where he’s working them. His fist strokes up and then stops.

When nothing happens for a second, Keith whines. He looks down.

Shiro’s fist is just circling the crown, and there’s oozing wetness puddling there. Keith’s cock twitches to see it.

“Shiro!” He moves his hips a little clumsily to push his dick through the ring of Shiro’s hand.

Shiro’s makes a sound of approval. “That’s it,” Keith fucks up and back down. His cock rubs all against Shiro’s in a filthy mess. “Ride me.”

Keith almost chokes at how that hits him. He wants nothing more. Shiro’s huge, but he can’t help but think how that would feel, how Shiro would look at him as he rode his cock. He moves his hips to keep going.

“Sh—“ Keith moans. His thighs are burning from the position. The only anchor is Shiro’s metal hand wrapped around his hip.  “Please… I want…”

Shiro’s fist tightens around them, and it makes the sound louder as Keith fucks into his fist. “What do you want?” His voice is strained, his eyes intense.

“I want you to fuck me,” his insides are burning as he says it, but it’s worth it for how it lights Shiro up too.

The hands on him grip harder, and the fist starts moving on their cocks even as Keith continues to thrust. “I know,” Shiro says on a gasp. “I know, but—“

They’re moving together now desperately, and it’s pushing Keith out of his head. His hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, grinding up into Shiro. His thighs are a dull background pain now . It all swirls together like a gorgeous symphony.

Keith is on display again, and it works on him just the same way it did the first time in this bed. Shiro’s watching him hungrily, fucking their cocks together. It’s intoxicating. It erases everything else from his mind.

“Just like this,” Shiro guides. “Want you just like this,” he bites his own lip and Keith swallows hard. He’s so close now any moment is going to be it. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open.

“I’m gonna—“

“Yeah,” Shiro pants, his first jerking them fast and delicious now. “Come on baby, I want—“

Whatever he says next doesn’t reach Keith because, _baby._ It’s too much. It turns him inside out. Keith moans, burns, begins to come.

He rides it out on Shiro’s lap, fucking a mess into Shiro’s fist, indulging in how Shiro begins to come in hot pulses right against him. It’s intimate and messy and exactly right. He feels like a supernova, too hot and burning beyond his skin.

Shiro helps him collapse down into his chest when they both finish. It’s sticky between them, but Keith can barely focus on it.

Instead, he lingers in the heavy warmth that’s filled his chest. Shiro’s arms are wrapped around him, strong and firm. Keith rises and falls with the mans breathing, and it helps to lull Keith.

Eventually his pillow does decide to move though. Keith grunts his displeasure as he’s shifted onto his side. Then that warmth starts to pull away entirely and all of Keith’s alarm bells go off. He remembers the hammock, how Shiro left. Left Keith alone. Like he didn’t even _care._

He hadn’t thought about it all day, but now it bubbles up as if it’s been there the whole time. It’s a horrible empty chasm of abandonment.

“Don’t!” His voice is crackly when he grabs for Shiro. Already there are tears in his eyes. He doesn’t know why.

Shiro, halfway off the bed, turns back with concern. “Keith?”

“Don’t go!” There’s wetness on his cheeks. He should feel ashamed, but the fear and hurt are so much bigger, they've blocked everything else out.

“Oh, wow, hey,” Shiro moves back toward him, a hand petting over Keith’s hair. “I wasn’t leaving, was just going to get a cloth to clean us up.”

It makes sense, but Keith doesn’t let go of the metal hand. “Don’t!”

Shiro frowns but then comes back. He kisses Keith’s cheek. “I’m going to walk right there,” he gestures to the bathroom. “I don’t want us to go to bed dirty, okay?”

Keith looks at the door to the bathroom and then back at Shiro. He lets go of Shiro to dash away his tears. “O—okay.”

“Okay.” Shiro gets up again but faces Keith. “Talk to me while I get a cloth. How’re you feeling?”

“Um,” the first word that comes to mind is _strange._ He’s not usually so weepy or clingy. “I don’t know. It was fine, good, and then..."

The water goes on and then off in the bathroom. Then Shiro is walking back to the bed. Carefully he climbs back in and starts washing Keith up. "Then you were afraid I was going to leave."

Keith closes his eyes. The cloth is a little rough, but warm. The way that Shiro washes him is thorough but not sexual, and it's stabilizing. "It's weird, you know? Because it's not even you. Not exactly. Orphans lot, you know?"

"I don't, I'm sorry." Shiro says gently. The cloth comes off and then Shiro is turning Keith onto his side and spooning up behind him. He's a little damp from his own washing, but warm and solid. Keith wraps his arms over the strong muscled ones holding him. "What was it like?"

Before this, Keith would have said that the past was behind him, and that was that. He'd had enough experience with how people treated you as soon as the word orphan came around. Even he and Lance hadn't really talked about the time after Keith's father died. Mostly Keith had needed to move past it, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He hadn't needed reminders or discussion.

"Lonely," Keith says now, and it's like breathing for the first time. "It was like, suddenly nothing belongs to you. They take your house and most of your stuff. I was lucky and Lance's family took me in but... it's not the same. It's not your family, your house, your stuff. In a day your whole life is just gone. It's gone and you can never get it back." Strangely, by saying it aloud Keith feel steadier. He's had a long time to process his father's death, but admittedly never spoke about it to anyone. "So I guess I do have some issues with abandonment."

"That makes a lot of sense," Shiro says and squeezes him. "I'm sorry that happened to you. I can make sure I do better on that going forward."

"That's not— I'm not saying you need to do anything."

Shiro nuzzles the back of his neck. "I know, but I want to. I... I shouldn't have left you last night. Can you forgive me?"

"Shiro it's not—" Ridiculously, the man blows a raspberry into his skin. "Shiro!"

"Don't you dare say it's fine."

Keith huffs and tries to protest again, but gets another raspberry. It tickles and he laughs. "Hey, quit that!"

"Not until you acknowledge I did a dumb thing and my apology is warranted."

Keith tries then to twist in Shiro's hold and wrestle, but he's not really putting much effort in, and Shiro is dedicated to keeping him tucked up against him. Shiro smacks wet kiss after wet kiss onto the side of his face as Keith play struggles. "Okay, okay! Fine! Forgiven!" Keith's trying not to laugh, but failing.

"Well you don't have to forgive me."

"Oh my stars shut up!" Keith gets an arm free and reaches back to try and stifle Shiro. The man laughs in return and avoids his hand.

"I'm just trying to do right by you," Shiro grins.

"Then hush and let me enjoy my bliss."

Shiro hums happily and resettles, drawing the blankets up around them. "Yessir," Shiro says, then gives the command for the lights to dim. Shiro bids him goodnight with a gentle kiss to his nape. Keith squeezes his hand.

But long after Shiro's slipped off to sleep, Keith is awake, staring into the blackness of the room. He curses himself over and over for being such a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They were supposed to talk about something else, but Keith slipped right into the angst. In his defense he's been compromised all day because you are not supposed to leave your sub without aftercare!!!
> 
> Next time: those are some nice feelings you've got there... it would be a shame if something were to happen to them.


	17. Hide and Seek

Kosmo's cold, wet snout wakes Keith.

“Ugh!” Keith reaches with a blind hand to push the wolf away.

He doesn’t go more than an inch. There's further whining and slobbering. He nudges Keith more urgently.

“Okay, okay!” Keith sits up, rubbing away the slobber. It’s still dark in the room, but not completely pitch black. He can tell from the timed lighting that it's just before dawn. Early. Too early. Keith feels like garbage, it feels like it wasn't too long ago that he finally got to sleep.

“What?” He glares sore eyes in the wolf's direction.

Kosmo gifts a soft whuff, and then motions with his muzzle to the other side of the bed. The side where Shiro should be. It’s empty.

“Where’s Shiro?”

The wolf can’t speak, but he prances over toward the door urgently. It raises the hairs on the back of Keith's neck, and he's up in a flash. He stumbles out of bed and almost trips putting on his clothes. Still, he's quick in pulling on the jacket and securing his knife. The adrenaline pours into his veins, waking him more effectively than any cup of coffee.

At the door to the room Keith touches the wolf, and they flash away in a cracking pop.

It’s still a jarring experience, but Keith is getting better at it. When they reappear in the kitchen he doesn't even feel nauseous.

Around them is a dim and empty room. “Kosmo what—?”

Kosmo leads him back toward the crates. Back toward a very specific crate that contains packages of jerky. It’s one of Kosmo's favorite treats. Keith gets the shape of the wolf's urgency. He frowns. “Did you really pull me out of bed to get you a snack?”

The wolf stares up at him gleeful, tail wagging.

“Unbelievable. Can’t you just poof in and get some yourself?”

Kosmo just whines.

“What, Shiro tell you that you couldn’t? Want me to be an accomplice?” Keith yawns now that the anticipation of danger has passed. “If I get you one, will you take me back to bed?”

The wolf just blinks innocently at him. That’ll have to be enough.

“Okay let me just—“ A muffled voice from above cuts him off.

“Look, what were saying is we’re sick of all this waiting!” It's a deep, Galran voice. Immediately Keith ducks down behind the crates, smooshing Kosmo down with him out of sight. A clatter of footsteps and voices descend down into the kitchen.

“There’s only three of them right now, we should move,” this is a woman’s voice. Keith’s heard it on the ship before, but he can’t remember her name.

“We don’t move until we have the treasure in hand.”

That voice strikes something sharp into the center of Keith's chest. It's a voice he knows. A voice he knows painfully well.

Shiro.

Keith edges over just enough to peek around the side of the crate. His heart is battering in disbelief, it can’t— it can’t—!

But it is. In the dim room he can easily see Shiro and Sendak and half a dozen more Galra. Both Axca and Ezor are present. All of them are circled around Shiro, mixtures of respect or resentment on their faces. But Shiro isn't in danger, no. It’s clear that he is their leader.

“I say we kill ‘em all now,” Sendak grins.

In a split second Shiro spins on the Galra and grabs him by the throat with his metal arm. Before Keith’s eyes the man is transformed. A stranger. The man before him with the blazing purple arm is not the same man who kissed Keith’s throat softly and promised to do right by him. Before Keith is The Cyborg, terrifying and brutal.

“Disobey my orders again like that stunt with Hunk, and so help me you’ll see a fate much worse than him.” Shiro snarls right in the Galra's face. His hand squeezes down while his eyes blaze in the dark room. Shiro holds for a second to make his point and then tosses Sendak aside.

Keith’s chest constricts in agony. This is impossible. This is all his worse fears come together. Shiro is—

Sendak gets back to his feet, a cruel laugh scraping through his bruised throat. “Strong talk,” he says, “but I know otherwise.”

Shiro turns back to him. Around them the Galra lean in, the circle tight and hungry for violence. “You got something to say Sendak?”

“That boy,” Sendak walks the room, weaving around the Galra. “Methinks you have a soft spot for him.”

One of the other men pipes up an agreement.

Shiro meets the circle of accusatory looks with a nasty glare. “Do you? Then you’re just as much a fool. I care about one thing and one thing only: the treasure. You know why we’re here, you really think I would risk that for some skinny little whelp?”

The words are like surefire arrows. They strike Keith with inexplicable aim and unaccountable pain. Tears burn at his eyes but he covers his own mouth and tells himself to bear it. To swallow it down. To stay quiet.

It’s his own foolishness in the end. He’d known from the first day to beware the cyborg. His heart just wouldn’t listen.

Sendak frowns but continues his circling, like he’s coming in for the kill. Keith wants to be anywhere but here, but he can’t look away.

“What was it,” Sendak mimes himself thinking. “Ah yes,” he makes air quotes. “There’s a greatness in you—“

“You know nothing!” Shiro cuts him off with a sneer. “I cozied up to the boy to keep him off our scent, to keep him preoccupied. Otherwise your shit would have gotten us caught out the first week!”

Sendak scoffs as if he doesn’t believe this, but the Galra around them are nodding, giving murmurs of awe. Keith hears more than one whisper, _The Champion!_  He doesn't know what that means, but it's clear it holds reverence. The Galra are all back on his side.

"Are there any other stupid things you’d like to say Sendak?” Shiro stares at him.

The Galra crosses his arms. “My original position still stands.”

“I hear you, but let me remind you who is in charge of this crew. I say it’s not time yet, so it’s not time yet.”

There’s a low grumbling from Sendak.

“What was that, I couldn’t hear you?” Shiro takes a step toward him again. Threatening.

Before anything else can happen, there’s a sequence of shouts from above deck. Axca, closest to the stairwell, turns to give it her attention. She must be able to hear what’s being said, because then she turns back. “Shiro, we’re here.”

In a flash Axca is up the stairs, the rest of the Galra following her out with cries of glee. Shiro is the last to leave.

And then Keith is alone.

He pushes himself off Kosmo, but his body is moving on its own. His head is in a fog.

He steps out from the crates and then is just… standing there in the kitchen.

It’s shock. He can categorize that in a vague sort of way. His mind is clogged under the weight of rewriting everything he thought he knew. The weeks of their day to day banter, constant flirting, soft kis—

Obvious in retrospect. Keith is twice the fool for buying into it.

Shiro was a cook but had a private room. He was well respected by their Galra crew. And that arm, that horrifying arm that he dressed up as a kitchen tool. Cute. Innocent.

Keith is so fucking stupid.

He poured his heart out and for what?

_Skinny little whelp._

Keith grabs at his chest. The pain is cold, so deep he doesn’t know it will ever thaw. Kosmo whines, bumps him a little.

When Keith doesn’t respond there’s a flash of light and then Kosmo’s gone. Of course.

Everyone leaves him, wasn’t he _just_ talking about that.

The chasm rises up as if to swallow him. It would be so easy to give in. He could fall to pieces so tiny they could never be put back together. Just sit down on this kitchen floor and let come what may.

But then he thinks about Lance. He thinks about Allura and Hunk. They’re all in grave danger. The Galra want the map, want the treasure, and they’re going to kill them to get it. Keith has to warn them.

It helps to calm the swirl of blackness in his chest. This is no time to let himself go, to slip into his head. There is still the mission, there is still Lance. He knows now, so he can act. He can tell the captain and they can work something out. Maybe they can send a message to a police agency to meet up with their ship before this whole thing goes sideways.

Keith holds the plan tightly to his chest. He swallows down the feelings of self pity and betrayal, he reaches for that harder part of himself. The spines everyone always accuses him of having.

Anger kindles low in his belly, at first just the barest of sparks. Keith throws into the fire every memory, every soft scrap of Shiro that he has. Sadness won’t help him, but anger can. Anger is weapon he can wield.

Keith takes a deep breath and straightens his spine. He will go straight to Allura, and they’ll discuss what to do next.

He nods to no one and then stalks across the kitchen to the stairs, heat rising up his chest. He is strong, he is dedicated. He can do this.

But when he gets to the stairs there is Shiro, coming down.

The man startles when he sees Keith. His face runs through half a dozen expressions before settling back in that cold, neutral place. He looks then like _The Cyborg_.

Keith steps back, unable to hide his snarl. The anger billows up inside him, demanding fuel, blood.

Shiro comes down the last few stairs and then stops, blocking the exit. He smiles, but it’s a façade of the expression. There is none of that softness. There never was. His eyes are watching Keith closely.

“Keith,” he says, with a deceptive cheerfulness, “playing games, are we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Shiro, what is your DEAL. Poor Keef.  
> This is now the angst portion of the program, buckle up kids. 
> 
> If you need something to sweeten the palette after this chapter, I just put up small fluff fic.
> 
> Next time: a mutiny


	18. Mutinous

 Shiro steps forward and Keith steps back again. He bumps a table behind him, his knife digging into his back.

“Yeah,” he says, hand sliding back to discreetly pull the blade out of his pants. “Yeah we're playing games.”

Shiro’s eyes go from one side of the room to the other, as if looking for any more tricks. Then he tisks. “I was never much fun to play games with,” he says, stepping closer. “Always hated to lose.”

Keith smiles back at him and it’s all teeth. “Me too.”

They both move at the same time, but Keith is quicker due to his size. He slips under Shiro’s metal arm, avoiding the blazing purple weapon it’s transformed into, and plunges his knife into the metal.

Keith doesn’t know if it works, what damage it causes, and he doesn’t spare the time to check. His blade shears through the metal as he moves, ducking down and around Shiro.

The man curses as if it hurts, but Keith doesn’t look. He flees up the stairs, blade in hand, ready for whatever will greet him up on deck.

But there’s no Galra around. When he comes up the steps, he sees them all at the bow, excitedly pointing ahead to a ringed planet on the horizon. And that’s all the time Keith has to spare. Behind him he can hear Shiro shouting, the heavy clunk of him on the stairs.

Keith sprints across the deck for the door to the captain’s quarters, and slides into it without further trouble. He latches the heavy door behind him, and then runs down the hall.

Lance answers after far too many seconds of Keith battering at the door.

“What—“

Keith pushes past him into Allura quarters. “Lock it, don’t let anyone else in!”

Lance, to his credit, does so. Keith heads toward that room where he knows Allura to be.

##

It’s a fast and tense few minutes as Keith gets them up to speed with all he’s overheard.

“Keith I’m so sorry,” Lance puts a hand on his shoulder when he finishes talking.

Keith brushes him off. “It’s fine. What do we do next?” He directs this at Allura. This is an emergency, he can’t afford to dawdle on his personal hurts.

 Allura, datapad in hand, pulls up the ships system. “Well the mutiny is in full swing, they’ve just breached the armory, so there’s that.” She sighs, moving out of the room and to another locked panel. “Pirates on my ship,” she puts her hand on the lock. “I’ll see them all hanged.”

Behind the panel is a mini armory. Allura grabs and powers up a weapon. When it lights up, she tosses it to Lance. “Familiar with these Lance?”

Lance catches the gun clumsily. “Oh uh, I mean, I’ve read—“

The gun goes off, hitting the far wall and burning a small hole. Allura doesn’t move, but Keith jumps away with a curse.

“Ah, no. No, I’m not at all!” Lance holds the gun away from himself.

Allura sighs and then moves to the panel with the map. “It’s a point and shoot dear, just don’t point it at us!” She removes the sphere from the locked panel and tosses it to Keith. “Guard that with your life.”

Keith takes it immediately and tucks it into the inner pocket of his jacket. He pulls out his knife once more.

From the exterior doors come the sounds of commotion. The datapad in Allura’s hand goes off. “They’re breaching the outer door, we need to go.”

But before that can culminate, there’s a flash of light and a pop, and Kosmo appears. Allura swivels instantly, gun aimed and crackling electricity.

But Kosmo is alone, looking straight at Keith. “Wait!” Keith steps between the two of them. “Wait. Kosmo woke me and took me to the kitchen. I thought it was a prank but… maybe he wanted me to hear it. Maybe he’s with us.” Keith turns to the wolf, hoping he’s not wrong about this.

Kosmo looks solemn and the steps closer, nuzzling Keith’s hand.

“Would you bet your life on it?” Allura demands. The door of her cabin creaks ominously and the voices behind it grow louder and more aggressive.

Keith puts his hand on Kosmos head. “Yes.”

“Then quickly, I won’t leave Hunk!” Allura turns and goes back into the room with the healing pod. They follow.

“You just need contact, right?” Allura has the pod already open, and a hand around Hunks unblemished arm to pull it out.

“Yeah.” Keith moves closer so Kosmo will.

 “We need to get to the skiffs. We’re near the destination, we can hide planet side.”

She puts her hand and Hunk's on the wolf’s back. Keith looks down at Kosmo. “Can you take us to the skiffs?”

There’s a loud crack that draws their attention to the main room. The door bows as it tries to hold on.

Just as it begins to give way, they disappear in a flash of light.

##

Allura and Lance hit hard on the landing trying to support an unconscious Hunk.  Keith rolls with the motion, immediately heading toward the control panel. His heart is thundering.

Allura shouts at him the override code, and Keith keys it in to open the lower ship door. It gives him the green and then begins to open.

A laser shot nearly glances Keith. He ducks instinctively behind the panel. Across the room Kosmo has poofed them into the skiff. Allura immediately starts firing back at the Galra that are pouring into the ship's belly. Lance joins her, a clumsier shot, but in this context it hardly matters. The return fire holds the Galra from overrunning them.

Keith will have to go the long way back to avoid getting shot, even as Allura and Lance try to cover him.

Before he can move though, a glow of purple catches his attention.

 _Shiro_.

The man slips out from behind the other Galra, his metal arm fending off a surprisingly targeted shot from Lance. He’s wild eyed and fierce, made scarier by how his arm crackles electricity where Keith dug his knife in. He stalks toward Keith, arm raised and weaponized.

Keith doesn’t hesitate, he turns and, staying low, sprints back to the skiff.

He expects a shot to his back that never comes. The entire way back his heartbeat is thundering and his body is braced for the pain. It never comes and Keith doesn't dare look. When he gets to the skiff he scrambles up over the side and dumps himself in the bottom. Lance and Allura keep firing.

“Quickly!” Allura shouts, gesturing below at the dock door. Keith gets up to look and sees it beginning to close.

Shiro is at the panel he’s just abandoned, eyes locked on Keith. His expression is blank, impossible to read.

“Lance, shoot yours on two!”

Keith should be paying attention, but he can’t. Can’t look away from Shiro. He hopes his betrayal and anger is written clearly on his face. He hopes Shiro’s arm aches, that the damage his sword did lasts. He hopes he gave Shiro even a fraction of the pain he's experiencing.

But Shiro is blank, just staring.

“One, two!” Allura and Lance both shoot up at the rope holding the skiff. Immediately the boat plummets in a shower of laser fire.

Keith grabs onto Kosmo and Lance wraps himself around Hunk. Allura at the engine lets them fall right out through the bottom of the ship with minimal gravity to hold them. It’s a jarring, dizzying drop when Keith isn't the one piloting. 

When they clear the ship, Allura slams the solar sails open and pushes the engine forward. For a moment they're free from laser fire, speeding across the blackness of space toward the ringed planet of Daibazaal. It's not far at all now, Keith can already see the greenness of the clouds. The sight should awe and overwhelm him, but he can barely focus on that. There's no time to rejoice at the miracle of actually finding such a place.

Keith instead lets go of Kosmo and goes to Lance who is trying to get Hunk in a better position in the front of the boat. They work quickly for half a minute to secure the man with rope. Then both Keith and Lance secure their own lifelines.

“Should be—“ Allura starts but then Lance interrupts.

“Captain! The canon!”

Keith whips his head around and sure enough one of the Castle's canons is powered up and aimed in their direction.

They’re quickly dropping into the gravity of the planet now, increasing range, but they won’t get enough distance fast enough. This they all simultaneously know.

Then the canon fires.

They have mere seconds as the fireball rockets toward them. Allura tries to jerk the skiff, but there's little she can do at their velocity. The fireball nails their back left, instantly destroying the engine and igniting the sails. The roar of the wind saves them from being burned alive a second later by tearing the ruined sails completely off.

The boat spins wildly then and they all scream. Engine gone, they quickly start to lose altitude. Allura is shouting, desperate to keep the ship upright, to glide it steady as they rip down through clouds.

Keith looks for Kosmo, thinking maybe he can poof them but then he sees the wolf and—

Kosmo is lying on his side beside Allura, a blacked char on the fur of his hindquarters.

They’re falling too fast and the momentum keeps Keith in place, even as Keith’s heart splinters. Even as he cries out for Kosmo.

The ground races up toward them and Allura jerks the steering as they hit the top of trees. She skims off speed that would kill them as best she can, jostling them all dangerously in the meantime.

They speed through greenery that whips and cuts even as they’re all ducked into the bottom of the boat.

And then they drop further and there’s nothing left but the ground. Keith presses himself to Lance because he can’t reach anyone else as the skiff knocks against the ground, bobbing with the force across the forest floor. They rattle and shake through the trees, and then there’s no more lift and the bow catches, flipping them.

There’s little gravity left in the ship, but it at least keeps them in it through the tumble. End over end over end, the ship cracking ominously around them.

When they finally come to a full stop in a swampy grass area, skiff overturned, Keith almost vomits.

“Keith?” Lance is still beside him. He looks scuffed but whole. Immediately he hauls Keith in for a tight hug. “Oh, we’re alive! We’re alive! Thank the stars!”

But before Keith can let him have the moment he remembers: Allura, Hunk, Kosmo.

He pushes Lance away and then crawls up out of the skiff. “Allura? Kosmo?!”

Hunk is beside the boat in a tangle of rope. He's thankfully lying on what looks like soft green foliage. Lance goes to check on him.

“Here!” Allura calls.

She’s on the other side of the boat on the ground, Kosmo beside her.

The wolf raises his head and the relief as Keith reaches them is enormous. “Kos, you okay buddy?”

The wolf whines but licks Keith’s hand when he pets him.

“I think we just got grazed.” Allura goes to stand on wobbly feet and then hisses in pain. “Not one of my more gossamer landings.”

Lance walks over then. “Hunk is fine, still unconscious. Woah, hey!” He catches Allura when she stumbles, her arm coming up to her side.

There’s blood beginning to stain through her coat.

“Allura!”

“Oh, don’t fuss,” she tells Lance. “Just a slight bruising.”

But she looks faint on her feet. Kosmo, when he tries to get up, doesn’t fair much better.

From above there’s a sound of an engine. Another skiff sailing by at a distance. Instinctively they all tuck in near the ship, though there’s so much foliage it’s unlikely they will be seen.

Keith’s never been more glad their ship lost power coming down out of the clouds so their crash hasn’t left a plume to follow.

“Keith,” Allura’s seated now, Lance fussing over her coat to get at her wound. She’s grumbly, uncooperative. When Keith give her his attention, she offers up her gun. “We will need a more defensible position, can you scout?”

Lance sighs, taking the gun and shoving it at Keith so he can get her out of her coat. “Allura quit giving orders for two seconds so I can—“

“Yeah,” Keith says. Lance’s worry makes him uncomfortable. He knows their situation is bad, but Lance’s obvious brittleness makes it seem much more real. Keith needs to put distance between himself and that if he’s going to focus.

He turns and heads in one direction into the forest.

##

It’s not long in his trek before Keith is certain of two things. The first is that this swampy planet has little to no places for shelter, and the second is that someone or something is tracking him.

Keith is careful to lead his tracker farther from their crashed boat and to give no outward indication he knows what’s going on. Allura’s gun is tucked into his waistband beside his knife. When he comes upon the right spot, he slips the weapon out.

It’s a well-aimed shot he takes, just off center of where he knows the person is hiding.

There’s a shriek and then a slender girl jumps out from behind a tree. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

He lowers his gun. Enemy or not, Keith’s not about to shoot a child. “Who are you?” he calls across the space between them. “Why are you following me?”

The girl is camouflaged well for their scenery, her clothing dark green even if ragged. Her brown hair is short and tangled, but she looks well enough. She steps closer, pushing a pair of glasses up her nose.

“You’re a carbon-based life form!”

And it seems she’s taken the lowering of his weapon as signal, because she crosses right to him and gets in his face, peering owlishly at him. Keith can see now she isn’t so much a child as just a very slight thing. “Have you come to rescue me?”

“What?”

But now she’s circling him as if to take him all. “Yes, homo sapiens. 5’10, but still growing, estimated age between seventeen and twenty. Solid skeletal structure, healthy body mass, canines slightly overlong, possibly due to crossbreeding with—”

“Hey, hey, woah there!” Keith rounds to face her, his hands held up. For some reason it feels as though she can see _right_ through him. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh. Of course. Customs must be observed first.” She stops and holds out her hand. “Hello, I’m KATIE, that stands for…. for…” Her head jerks suddenly, like a glitch. The movement is so sharp Keith almost pulls away. “Uh, but I go by Pidge.” She blinks as though confused. “I think.”

“I’m Keith. Pidge, is there anyone else out here?”

She freezes completely and that’s when Keith picks up on the slight whirring sound. It’s coming from her. When she reanimates, she’s a little stiff, less lifelike. “No I’ve been marooned. A year? Two?” There’s another glitch.

“Is there something wrong with your programming Pidge?” Keith's never seen an AI this lifelike before, but he knows of them.

She laughs and it’s a little strange, too unlike a human. “Well I guess you could say that. Zarkon loved this swampy planet but the moisture is killer on circuits and—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Keith steps forward to grab her shoulders. “You knew Captain Zarkon?”

“Well yeah. Moody fella, Galran emperor.”

Keith's worry sizzles away behind immediate excitement. “So you know about the treasure?”

“The treasure?” Pidge is looking wide eyed again, he can hear the soft sound of her thoughts. “The treasure— it’s— it’s—” She starts to glitch now, worse than before. “R-r-remember, I—” Her eyes flicker, something in her neck clicks audibly. “Buried in the ce-centriod of the— mech-an-ism.” Her eyes now are glowing, the light in them too bright.

Keith steps away, unsure of what to do. "The centroid?"

“In the c-cen— door, a door, open and closing— opening and— the Captain wanted—” Here her whole body jerks, her voice changing pitch. “I helped him— had— had to, he had my— my— DATA CORRUPTION, ERROR CODE G319KU, REBOOT!”

All of a sudden, she deflates, slumping in her frame, the lights of her eyes going on. “Pidge?!” Keith steps up again, touching her shoulder softly.

There’s a moment of complete silence, and then a flicker, the sound of a machine booting up.

When her eyes light up again she lifts her head to look at Keith. “And you are?”

Keith frowns. “Keith. What just happened, are you okay?”

She processes this question and then frowns. “Apologies, my memory isn’t what it used to be.” She reaches back and lifts the hair from her neck. There she has a hole and a bundle of exposed wires. “Missing a core memory bank, you haven’t seen it, have you?”

“Uh no.” He considers asking again about Zarkon, but then remembers he has more pressing issues. “Hey Pidge,” he says instead, “Do you know of someplace that me and my friends can hide out?”

##

Pidge in fact does have a home inside an old, rusted ship. It’s not too far from where they crashed, and after introductions are made, they decide to go there. Pidge and Keith carry Hunk between them and Lance scoops up a protesting Allura. Kosmo manages to limp along slowly beside them.

By the time they get to Pidge’s, it’s late evening. The sky has become a beautiful pink and the air has grown chilly. Pidge doesn’t have any food, but she offers them water and an assortment of first aid that was originally in the ship’s cargo.

Lance redresses Allura’s wound and Keith tends to Kosmo.

“Your captain is the worst off,” Pidge declares when her scan is done. She presses her glasses up into her hair as if to signify she is finished.

“And Hunk?” Allura asks.

“He’s been in stasis, yes?” Allura nods. “He needs more time, but he’s not in any danger. Bruised from your landing, minor wrist sprain.”

Kosmo’s taken burns, but they’re also not too serious. He whines when Keith cleans them, but otherwise doesn’t fuss. Kosmo will be down for the count on teleporting for a little bit, but it could have been so much worse. Keith hugs the wolf and whispers some thank yous and apologies into his fur. Kosmo nuzzles him back.

“Keith, you’re on first watch,” Allura orders when he finishes up with the wolf. “Anyone comes close, don’t hesitate to shoot.”

Lance hushes her, making her lie down on one of the makeshift beds Pidge helped them make.

Allura huffs, but gives up when Lance curls up beside her. Their hands clasp easily, fingers weaving together.

The picture they make has Keith turning away. His own chest is full of cement, and there’s nothing to be done about it. It’s hateful.

He takes the gun to the opening of the dwelling and sits himself there just out of view if anyone were to be passing by.

Behind him everyone quiets, one by one their breathing slows into sleep. Then it's just him guarding the front and Pidge in the back moving around. He could ask what she's doing, or more about this planet, but just then Keith doesn't want to. He needs this quiet solitude to take it all, to try and process.

He finds himself, an hour later, picking at the details. That during their escape Shiro had plenty of opportunities to shoot him and didn’t. Even Keith's mad dash up the kitchen stairs would have given Shiro at least one opportunity, but Keith hadn't even gotten a glancing shot.

But it doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. It can't possibly mean anything, and Keith can’t afford even the smallest flickering of hope. It's too dangerous, too catastrophic to even indulge.

Tears burn the corners of his eyes as he watches the last of the sunlight fade.

He knows his treacherous heart wants to. Wants any reason to believe that Shiro hasn’t betrayed him so completely.

He's such a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of hints in this chapter. And Pidge! There's some changes to the Treasure Planet story-line coming up, but I had to and I hope they will work for you.
> 
> Next time: a very tense parley


	19. Parley

Keith sits for a long time looking out at Daibazaal. After all his dreams and fantasies, the reality is a stark contrast.  

So far their time on the planet has been hard and painful. In every direction is swamp and trees, and according to Pidge the planet is otherwise vacant. It’s a little underwhelming after all the stories.

It’s quiet on Keith’s watch until the moons start to rise. The added light helps Keith spot a slender Galra moving stealthily through the trees at a distance. Keith’s always been better at seeing at night than most people, so he’s suddenly glad he was given first watch. There's no way Lance would have been able to see them. Keith watches as the Galra makes their way steadily closer until Keith can recognize her as Axca.

Allura told him to shoot on sight, but Keith wavers. He knows she’s a part of the mutiny, that likely if their positions were reversed she would have shot him already.

But she’s just meandering through the growth, searching yes, but it’s obvious she doesn’t know their position. To take a shot now feels underhanded.

Keith waits as long as he can while she searches the area. It’s only when she’s almost to their fallen ship that Keith convinces himself to do something. Carefully he aims and fires off a shot near her feet.

Immediately Axca springs back to behind a tree, weapon coming up to aim in his direction. Keith watches her search and then finally spy him.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t fire back.

Behind him in the ship everyone stirs.

“Have they found us?” Allura demands.

Lance groans groggily beside her.

“Just Acxa, she’s holding position.”

Nothing happens for a little while after that, but they’re all tense. Pidge comes to sit beside Keith and they make idle chat about what could happen next. It's a comfort in more ways than one because Pidge also busies herself scanning the space in front of the ship while they chat. There are no other creeping Galra.

Axca eventually steps out from the tree, hands raised with a white strip of cloth clutched in one.

“A surrender?” Pidge asks.

“Don’t shoot, I am unarmed!” Acxa shouts across the distance. She walks slowly and stops at the halfway point, vulnerable if Keith wanted to take her down. He doesn't though.

“What do you want?” Keith asks when she’s stopped moving.

Axca waves the white flag. “Shiro wants a parley.” She nods back to the trees. Shiro steps out from the covering.

“Am I just supposed to trust the honor of pirates?”

Axca laughs. “No. I’m the second in command, I will stay here as leverage for the parley.”

Keith turns back to look at Allura who is now sitting up with Lance’s help.

“What do you think?” Keith asks.

“They want the map, clearly,” she muses. “But we need to buy more time. We should say yes, we need all options on the table.” She tries to rise then, but collapses quickly in pain.

“Allura stop, stop. If you reopen it again—“ Lance frets.

“I’ll go,” Keith says immediately. “In your stead.”

“What!” Lance squawks. “No!”

“No listen,” Keith looks back to make sure Axca is still there, and she is indeed now seated on the ground, hands aloft patiently. “I’ll meet with Shiro, you and Pidge can keep a gun on Axca. If I’m not back under an hour then you take her hostage in exchange.”

Keith rustles in his jacket and pulls out the map, he tosses it to Lance.

“Just like that?” Lance frowns.

They both turn to look at Allura who is nodding, despite the grimace of pain. “Yes, not our finest plan, but it’ll have to do.”

##

Agreement made, Keith calls back to Acxa their acceptance and conditions. When the details are settled, Keith steps out from the safety of the ship.

It’s a tense few minutes. There are guns at Keith’s back to return fire should he be shot down, but that won’t save him if all they wanted was to get him first.

But no one fires and Keith gets to Axca just fine. He quickly searches her for weapons and finds none.

“I know you have no cause to believe me,” Axca says as he winds the rope around her arms and legs, “but neither I nor Shiro wanted it to end up like this.”

Keith pulls the ropes a little too tight. “Must’ve gotten lost in all the shooting at us.”

Axca sighs. Her eyes are reflective in the moonlight. “Just… if he tells you anything, try to believe him. We aren’t… some of the crew isn’t ours. We’re in a delicate situation, and we… we’re doing our best.”

Keith finishes with the rope and doesn’t know what to say back to that. His eyes dart up to Shiro who is waiting at a distance.

“How many guns are on us right now?”

Axca shakes her head. “None. I didn’t tell anyone else that I’d found you. It’s just me and Shiro. The rest of the crew are camped and scouting far from here or still on the ship.”

Keith stares at her. “You know, the sick thing is that I want to believe you.” He gets up and gives Lance a thumbs up. Then he walks off to the left.

Shiro approaches when they’ve gotten a distance away from both Axca and the ship. He’s wary, but his hand is a proper hand and, as hard as Keith has been concentrating, he’s pretty sure no one has followed them.

They walk further, eventually stopping in a thick sprouting of trees. It’s dark, just shafts of moonlight pouring in. Shiro comes close enough that should Keith need to, the reach of his knife would do the man great damage.

“Interesting weapon you got there Keith,” Shiro says with a strange smile, holding his arm aloft. It looks like he’s attempted to repair the damage with limited success. “Not many things can cut luxite, did you know that?”

Keith narrows his eyes but shrugs.

“In fact, only luxite can cut luxite. That’s what makes it such a good metal for weapons.” Shiro rubs over his arm idly, a frown on his face. “So why don’t you tell me who you’re working for?”

The question throws Keith. “What? Who I’m working for?”

Shiro steps toward him but then stops when Keith stiffens, his hand inching toward his blade. “You don’t just find a luxite blade, so who gave it to you?”

Keith pulls out the knife, turning the blade over in his hand. It’s an extraordinarily beautiful blade, and has never required more than a passing cleaning in all the years he’s owned it, but Keith’s never thought anything more of it. It was always just sentimental to him. “My mother,” he says truthfully. “I’m not working for anyone, I’ve had this knife since I was a kid.”

Shiro is watching him intently, and for some reason this news is troubling to him. “So you’re not…?”

“Working for somebody? No.” Keith spits and returns his blade to his waistband. “I’m just some fucking idiot who got played by a band of pirates.”

Shiro’s shoulders slump. “Wait, I don’t understand.”

And he does look lost, but this just incites Keith further. Shiro doesn’t get to backstab him, almost kill Keith’s _family,_ and then stand out here like a confused puppy that’s been wronged. “ _You_ don’t understand?!” He laughs bitterly and advances on Shiro, courting danger. “How about _I_ don’t understand.”

He’s in Shiro’s face now and he shoves the man. It does little to Shiro’s bulk, but it does get Shiro’s rapt attention.

“I get wanting the treasure, I get going undercover pretending to be a stand-up crew, I even understand the fucking mutiny!” Keith shoves him again, anger blazing across every word. “But what I don’t fucking understand is why you had to mess with me like that! Why you had to make me— make—!”

He bangs his fists against Shiro’s chest when the fury chokes the rest of the words out.

Shiro grabs both his wrists firmly, his face has gone completely still. “Keith,” he says softly. “Keith listen, whatever you heard in the galley… at least the parts about you… I didn’t mean a word of it.”

Keith rips his hands away, baring his teeth and taking a step back. “Oh, and I’m just supposed to believe that?”

“Keith it’s complicated. If the crew thought… if they knew… they’d have torn us both apart.”

“You’re their leader.”

Shiro shakes his head, expression grim. “I’m only their leader as long as I keep being The Champion. I’m not—“ Shiro sighs and draws close again. “It’s crazy, but I want to trust you, I want to tell you everything Keith, but I’m so afraid.”

He takes up Keith’s hands gently. Keith looks down at them and then at Shiro’s face. He has that earnest look, but Keith can’t decide if he can trust it. “What’re you afraid of?”

Shiro glances back as if checking to see they’re alone. “The things I’ve done. The things I have yet to do. I can get us through this Keith, I know I can, but I need you to trust me.”

“That’s a tall order after what you’ve done.”

Shiro squeezes his hands. “The mutiny got out of hand. I just wanted to subdue you, take over the ship. I wouldn’t have let them hurt any of you.”

“Didn’t seem like it,” Keith says.

“At the time I also was under the assumption that you were working for someone. You’d just cut me with a luxite blade.”

Keith still doesn’t quite understand the significance of his knife. “So you were mad that I had been lying to you about who I was and my motivations?”

Shiro cringes. “Something like that.”

It's almost laughable. “And Hunk?” Keith takes his hands back.

“I did not authorize that,” Shiro says firm.

Keith does laugh then, high and strange. “But you knew, you knew I wasn’t to blame and you still—“ he remembers that night. Shiro was so patient and kind, working him through his own guilt. Thinking of it now makes Keith feel sick to his stomach. The whole time Shiro knew who was truly to blame and said nothing.

“Keith I would apologize for years if you’d let me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just got too deep and I couldn’t balance you and the Galra. I’ve fucked up, and I don’t want to make excuses, but we don’t have the time right now for this.”

“Right. Of course. You’re just here for a half-assed explanation so you can get your hands on the map.”

Shiro tries to touch him again and Keith steps back. “I need the map," he says.

“Why?” Keith steps back again and there’s a tree. He could move, could avoid being boxed in but he doesn’t. He offers himself in exchange for an answer.

“I want to tell you,” Shiro says, he steps forward once but doesn’t yet reach for Keith. “It’s… remember how you said you were doing this for Lance, to make amends?” Keith nods. “It’s similar. This is a… job. It’s my chance to… make amends.” Shiro reaches up and tugs at the tuft of hair in the front. “Keith I can’t tell you anymore. I’m too afraid, I can’t risk— please understand.”

And the thing is, Keith almost believes him. There’s a pain to his expression that says more than his words. If Shiro’s still faking it, then he’s the universe’s greatest actor.

Keith offers a hand, palm up.

Shiro nearly falls into him, wrapping his arms around Keith’s slender frame and pushing his face into Keith’s neck. “Keith I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to do.”

Keith takes a deep breath in and out, and then pushes Shiro back. They end up pressed against each other, foreheads meeting.

“I can’t give you the map.” Keith says.

“I need it.”

Keith tilts his head, brushing their noses. “Is there any compromise?”

Shiro blows out a heavy sigh. “If Lance’s life depended on finding Zarkon’s treasure, could you compromise?”

The answer can only be, “No.” It’s not even up for debate, Keith would do whatever it took. It makes him more curious about Shiro, about who it is Shiro is doing this for. Is their life really in danger?

“I need you to trust me,” Shiro says again.

Keith presses his lips to the corner of Shiro’s mouth. His heart is fluttering painfully, a terrible ache that he couldn’t even begin to diagnose. “I need more time.”

It’s an impossible situation. Either Shiro puts his loved one on the line or Keith does. Keith wants to believe that everything Shiro has said is true but—

“I understand.” Shiro pulls away then, pressing one soft kiss to Keith’s cheek. “I can try and buy you more time.”

With how long it will take Keith to walk back, he should start back soon. There's no reason to make a tense situation worse. Keith brushes himself off and steps away from the tree.

“Is everyone okay?” Shiro asks before they part.

“For the most part,” Keith says. “Could have done without the fireball, you singed Kosmo.”

Shiro looks fraught at this news. “Is he okay?! I tried to get them to stop!”

“He’s okay, just needs some rest. Some time, if you can.”

Shiro nods, but already his gaze is far away, as though he’s thinking. “I will try, for you.”

Keith turns away, making his way back through the brush. His heart is heavy though with the knowledge that the parlay was a bust. The only way through the situation is that either he or Shiro will have to give up something precious to them, possibly endangering lives in the process.

Keith's almost certain neither Lance nor Allura will be too keen about Keith handing over the map, no matter how Keith presents the case. It’s their only leverage, their only saving grace against the Castle of Lions blowing them to bits inside their rusty ship stay.

And when it really comes down to it, Shiro was right, Keith _would_ do anything to save Lance’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I wonder what Shiro's deal is?
> 
> If you've seen Treasure Planet then you know that is not at all how that conversation was supposed to go, but Shiro's just too soft for Keith so, whoops. All will be revealed in time dear reader.
> 
> Next time: Allura's not doing so great, and Keith makes a decision.


	20. The Marmora Blade

Keith gives Lance and Allura a streamlined version of events when he gets back. Pidge is working on some kind of wiring, idly listening.

Lance scoffs when he finishes. “So what? Now he’s got a sob story? You can’t really believe that Keith.”

“I just can’t see what he’d have to gain by making that up.” Keith has cut carefully around his and Shiro’s personal history, but he’s hardly fooling Lance who gives him a hard look in return.

“Just a planets worth of treasure! You know honey works better than vinegar.”

No one is more aware of Keith’s soft spot than he is. He knows that if Shiro really wanted to manipulate him because it’s easier than fighting him, it would be all too easy. It could be happening right now.

“You weren’t there." Keith says defensively. "His face was— I can’t explain it. But I believe that he didn’t want to be doing this.”

“You’re right,” Lance snipes, “he’d rather have us in the dirt and already be swimming through a mountain of treasure.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Allura cuts in. She’s a little unfocused, propped up beside Lance. “We must… stay together and… and… _oh_ ,” her breathing has been harder since Keith got back, and now there’s a sheen of sweat sticking her hair to her cheek. She doesn’t look well.

“And what? Allura?” Lance turns his attention to her immediately, his face going soft. Keith can see the fabric Lance used as a makeshift bandage is already soaked through with blood.

Allura flops her head onto Lance’s shoulder, blinking blearily up at him. “Doctor, you have such wonderful eyes.”

Lance frowns, pushing the hair off her face. “She’s delirious.”

Allura smiles, eyes fluttering closed.

“We have to do something,” Keith says.

Lance makes a sound of frustration. “I’m an astronomer not a doctor!” He cries. “One credit from a doctorate but it isn’t that kind of doctorate, I don’t know how to help people!” He threads a hand into his own hair. "I just sit here and I'm useless- !"

Keith knows a Lance spiral when he sees one. He gets up and walks over to Pidge.

“Are there any more medical supplies?”

Pidge shakes her head. “Haven’t really had a need. I’m sorry.”

Keith sighs. Even if Shiro buys them more time, it won’t matter if Allura’s on the decline. He and Lance are the only ones in fighting shape, and that’s hardly anything against a whole Galra crew. That’s hardly anything if they have to flee.

Keith paces, doing the math. There’s one good option available to them, and it’s the worst one.

He goes over to Kosmo and inspects his wound again. The wolf makes a soft whine, but licks his hand when he offers it.

“So no amazing healing abilities then, buddy?” Kosmo just looks at him, but that’s enough. The angry burns still on his hindquarters are the same as they were hours ago.

“Okay.” Keith gets up and walks back over to Lance who is settling Allura down on the bed. Her breathing is raspy and audible. “Okay. For now we believe that Shiro is going to buy us time, and put that aside. First we need to deal with the injuries.”

“How?” Lance turns away from Allura, schooling his face into something more studious. Keith's glad to see it. 

“The Castle Of Lions has supplies, good supplies, so we can get both Allura and Kosmo on their feet. If I can get there, I can grab a bunch of stuff on board, come back with a skiff, and we can—“

“Get blown out of the sky again?” Lance says.

“No wait.” Keith rewrites the plan in his head. “Get the medical supplies, then I’ll disable the ship's canons, then steal the skiff.”

“That sounds like a beautiful plan Keith,” but Lance looks doubtful, “but there’s probably crew on the ship. If you get caught then we are all toast.”

“I won’t get caught.”

Keith can see Lance struggle on deciding whether or not to argue this. “Keith I—“

“I’ll go,” Pidge pipes in. “I’ll go and help.” They both turn to her and she shrugs. “Well if the only way I’m getting off this tin can is with you guys, then I better make sure you succeed. I’m good with tech, I can turn off the canons while Keith gets the supplies.”

“You ever fought pirates before?” Keith asks.

There’s a whirring of her gears and then, “I— I— there was a moon, moon, crash—“ she glitches.

“Never mind!” Keith says quickly. “Forget it.”

Pidge shakes off the glitch as Lance stares at her wide eyed. “What was the question again?”

Keith hums thoughtfully. “But I don’t know how we are going to get out of here without getting spotted, I’m sure someone’s out covering the entrance.”

"Ah!" Pidge gets up and moves to the back of the dwelling. “We could take the backdoor,” she says.

And then to their amazement, she pushes aside a bench and rug and there’s a… door in the ground. Similar to a utility hole.

##

They iron it out, including what limited knowledge Pidge has of the utility tunnel. Apparently there's _miles and miles of machinery that run through the entire inside of the planet._

Most of that is glitch territory, but Pidge has explored it locally and knows several points it comes out that might be helpful. They work on it until the plan is near foolproof, and by then it’s the middle of the night. Keith feels worn through by the day, but he knows this is their best opportunity. Pidge doesn’t need to sleep, and the other pirates are also likely to be sleeping. 

It's now or never.

Keith leaves the map and a gun with Lance who takes lookout. He gives Pidge a gun and keeps his knife. He puts back on his jacket and takes a bag Pidge has to collect medical supplies.

“Be careful,” Lance hugs him tight.

There’s no way to promise a time of return, that will depend on how long it takes to find the pirates camp and borrow one of the skiffs. Keith squeezes him back. “I will. Trust me, I will fix this.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, he can see it on Lance’s face when he pulls back. “Keith, it isn’t your resp—“

“Later.” Keith cuts him off. “We have to go.”

Lance frowns. “I’m holding you to that.” He offers up his hand, pinky extended. “We told Veronica we would take care of each other, don’t make a liar out of me.”

Keith hooks his pinky with Lance’s. “Never,” he swears. “I’ll be back.”

##

They get lucky on the second try and come out on the surface near the pirate camp. It’s easy to see in the darkness because of the fire furnace Keith spots glowing in the distance. Pidge scans the terrain as they get closer so they come up on the side with the skiffs.

There’s one Galra on watch on the far side, but Pidge says with the readings she can get off him, he’s likely asleep. As are the rest of them.

Still, they’re careful as they get close, picking through the underbrush. They’ve one shot at this, and it will be all for naught if they get caught before they’ve even left the surface.

The skiffs are unguarded though, just hovering there on the edges of the camp. It’s too easy to untie and pull one away through the trees.

“Little cocky aren’t they?” Pidge comments when they’re far enough away to get in the skiff and power up the sail.

“Wouldn’t you be in their position?”

The pirates have them out-armed and out-numbered and out-brawned. But Keith’s always had those kind of odds, so it doesn’t intimidate him.

“I guess.” She does a stiff shrugging motion. “Statistically though this would be when someone was most vulnerable, so I would have prepared for that.”

Keith laughs and turns the boat in the direction they want to go. Above, far above, the Castle of Lions glows dim like a beacon. “Not everybody is as smart as you Pidge.”

She smiles for the first time at him. “That’s true.”

And then they’re off.

##

The trick to sneaking onto a ship in the middle of the night has a lot to do with minimizing sound and light. To this end, he and Pidge have calculated how fast Keith needs to fly to have enough momentum to turn off the sails and engine when they’re close and then just glide up onto the ships hanger.

Pidge is the perfect teammate for this, without fear of Keith’s piloting, and clearheaded enough to give exact instructions while they’re whizzing up through clouds.

Keith pulls the brake as they enter the bottom of the ship and they both peek up, weapons at the ready.

But the hanger is empty. They both let out a sound of relief.

“Give me a second, I’ll make sure we have access.” Pidge climbs out of the skiff and goes to the access panel. Keith guards as she plugs in and makes sure the security hasn’t been rewritten to go off if they open any doors.

She’ll have to go to the actual mainframe to get the canons, but this is an important first step. A minute or so later she comes back with a thumbs up.  

“Don’t dawdle,” she gives him a hard look. “I may be metal, but my circuits can still be fried.”

Keith nods and then they part. Keith moves carefully up the stairs while Pidge goes lower, into the ships underbelly.

It’s quiet up on deck with no visible staff, but Keith still stays low and covers the distance to the other hallway quickly. He keeps his knife poised just in case. There's no need, he reaches the stairwell without incident and then descends down to the hallway with the storage rooms.

Pidge has done the security work well, because when Keith puts his hand on the door scanner it lets him in.

Quickly, Keith starts filling the bag. Pain patches, instaheal, bandages, disinfectant. It’s way more than either Allura or Kosmo will need, but it’s better to be safe. Their escape from the Galra may involve more injuries.

It’s just as Keith is shoving in a compacted hover gurney for Hunk into his bag that the alarms start going off.

“Fuck!” He zips the bag shut and pulls it back on. Above the sirens blare madly, impossible to ignore. It can’t be him that’s set them off, he’s been in this room. That means—

There’s no time. Keith puts his hand to the door and when it opens he runs. If he can get back to the skiff he can… he can…

But it’s not to be. Just as he rounds the hallway to take the stairs back up, a shadow appears in the doorway. The blaring alarm cuts out to chilling silence.

“Cabin boy,” Sendak hisses. His eye glows ominously, and his smile both pleased and cruel. Like Keith is an unexpected but delightful surprise.

Immediately Keith turns and flees back the way he came. The last scuffle with Sendak didn’t go so well for Keith, and there’s no Shiro this time to save him. It’s better to run and try to get away back to the skiff.

So he runs, the sound of the Galra growling at his heels. He clips empty containers and cleaning supplies with his knife as he passes, knocking everything and anything into the walkway to slow Sendak down.

But the Galra is fast, so fast Keith thinks if he looks back the man will be practically breathing down his neck.

There’s a corner coming and Keith takes it at speed, knowing he’s going to have to do something with his knife soon. The Galra isn’t slowing and even as these deep hallways connect to others, he will soon run out of space to run.

He puts on a burst for the next bend and then rounds it, taking the far right connection, hoping to slip right out of Sendak’s eyeline.

Keith slows and turns around, knife at the ready but hoping he's fooled him.

No good. That foul eye is zeroed in on Keith, and won’t be tricked by a hallway split. Sendak comes around the bend and straight for Keith, metal arm transforming into a great, glowing purple sword. It's horrible to behold, a weapon so similar to Shiro's it makes his heart stutter.

A second before they meet, before Keith learns whether or not his so-called rare knife will hold up to a Galran sword, the lights blink out. The entire hallway is plunged into absolute darkness.

Keith drops down immediately, the purple glow of the sword swiping through the air where his head just was. Sendak curses and the blade extinguishes to make himself less of a target. Keith moves off center in the dark, but he can't tell where Sendak has gone.

A moment later the security lights come on. The hallway bathes in blood red light. It's dim and ominous and—

Sendak is gone.

Keith whirls around, knife raised, heart thundering. Both ends of the hallway are empty.

But then, just in his peripheral, a hum. Similar to Pidge’s brain and Shiro’s arm. A sound he’s become all too familiar with, the hum of electronics at work.

Keith turns his attention above and there’s Sendak, perched like a giant cat on a metal duct. His sword is held aloft and it lights up once more in Galran purple.

He springs before Keith can get his knife up, knocking it out of Keith’s hands and slamming Keith into the ground. They wrestle on the ground, but it’s really just Keith trying to keep that dangerous sword away from his vital organs as Sendak grins and presses down. Sendak has him on raw strength, and Keith doesn’t have the time to reach for his knife even if it was close enough. It’s the end, and they both know it.

Keith gasps for breath, using all his strength to keep the blade away as it sizzles closer and closer to his face. He can feel the heat, the burn of it on his cheek. It’s painful, but it won’t be long, not with the way Sendak is making progress.

The Galra sneers and opens his mouth to deliver the final blow—

Then, suddenly, atmosphere changes. The ships gravity disappears right off their backs.

Keith rolls with it in a split second. His legs bunch and he kicks Sendak hard in the gut, sending him careening away in the gravity-less space. Sendak hits the ceiling hard and as he reaches with his sword hand to stop himself, he accidentally slices through.

It’s the top deck on the other side of that ceiling. Sendak floats up through the smoking hole he made, tumbling with the momentum. He reaches for anything that will keep him from floating away and finally manages to snag himself on one of the sails masts.

Keith’s momentum is slower, but he still rebounds off the floor and then floats up through the now smoking ceiling. He’s far enough away that Sendak can’t get him without letting go of his own safety, but that leaves Keith with nothing to grab on to.

He floats up, up toward the endless black of space above the ship, reaching uselessly for something to hold on to. There's nothing and there's nothing and it’s only as he’s reaching the top of the mast and his panic has crawled up into his throat, that he hits fabric. Black. A pirates flag. It extends out enough for Keith to grab, and he does so, clutching tightly against his own momentum, holding on even as his accrued energy tugs his upward.

But the flag holds and so does he. He breathes against his pounding heart for a second and then tries to risk assess.

The main one is Sendak on the mast below. He sees Keith holding on, and begins to climb the mast up toward him. If he reaches Keith, it won’t take much to either put a sword through him or kick him off into space.

Keith looks around for anything that can help and sees—

His knife. Floating up slowly, just close enough to reach with the extended reach of the flag.

Keith does, and Sendak only laughs at him as he pulls himself up over the crows nest. “You think that’s a match for me?” He taunts.

Keith claws himself to the main mast, knife in hand. He’s tired, his face is an agony from whatever burn Sendak gave him, but he grits his teeth. He’s sick to death of everyone, including himself, doubting him. Belittling him. Blaming him. Telling him what he can’t do, what’s too dangerous, too much.

If he’s going to die, then it’s going to be with the knife his mother left him, with the belief that he can do this, that he can win. He promised Veronica and he promised Lance.

And maybe, just maybe, he even promised himself.

“I am,” Keith says, fierce. He stands up sideways on the mast as Sendak is, tucking his feet under the roping to hold them there. He raises his knife.

Sendak smiles like a feral thing and steps forward, sword raised. Aimed for the kill.

_Not today,_ Keith thinks.

Just before they clash there’s a flare of purple, a heavy pulse of energy and—

The knife in his hand _transforms_. It lengthens and widens into a proper sword that glows a wicked Galra purple.

But it’s not frightening like every other Galra weapon he's ever seen. Keith can feel the energy of it reverberate back up his arm and it’s… friendly. Familiar. It makes him think of his mother. He was too young when she left to remember much but—

Sendak pulls back, alarmed and then confused. “How do you…?”

Keith puts aside his own thoughts and focuses. He presses his advantage, leaning forward and swinging the sword.

They meet in flashing purple, but it’s obvious now that Keith’s weapon is stronger. Even without the strength Sendak has, there's something about his sword that's powerful. It's not just a bit of metal, there’s a _force_ to it.

They come together over and over. Keith steps forward carefully, slipping his feet under the rope each time. The lack of gravity makes the physics of fighting difficult, but Keith is good at improvising. He's good at quick coordination and laser focus. 

Sendak defends himself time and time again, but it’s less graceful by the second. The Galra grunts and curses to keep Keith's sword at bay.

And then Keith sees the opportunity.

When stepping back Sendak forgets to hook his foot in. Keith steps forward quickly and gets right up in his face with the blaze of his sword and—

Sendak steps back again, completely untethered. Keith changes the direction of his sword and swings up, a bad attack, but perfect to catch the inside of Sendak’s arm.

Like Shiro, it’s clear he doesn’t expect Keith’s sword to shear the metal. The entire time he hasn't tried to guard it. Keith's sword rips into it easily.

Untethered, the simple momentum of the strike knocks Sendak off the mast and up, up past the reach of the ship.

He shouts, curses Keith, but it’s too late. There’s nothing to grab up there, and without intervention he will continue up and eventually pass out of the ship's oxygen bubble. It's over.

Keith turns away and begins to descent the mast one handed. Halfway down the gravity on the ship returns. He jumps back to the deck and looks up, but Sendak is already gone. It's a relief.

Down by the skiff Keith finds Pidge waiting for him.

“Sorry,” she says when she looks him over. “The wiring was all a mess, everything was mislabeled.”

“Uh huh.” Keith says, slipping into the boat. “And the canons?”

“Disabled.” He drops the skiff out of the opening without a thought. She’s watching him closely as he pilots them back toward the planet. “You okay?”

His sword had transformed back on the walk to Pidge, but he still has it in hand. Keith can only imagine the picture he makes, the burn on his face being the most stark new feature.

But they’re flying back to everyone victorious. The canons are no longer an issue and they have medical supplies and a skiff. Their situation is still dire, but Keith can feel that something has changed. Or maybe it's just something inside him.

“Yeah,” he says as the dark trees come into view. “I think I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll didn't think I would forget Keith's interesting heritage, did you? And yes in my version Sendak is giving him the scar, it just worked too well.
> 
> Wow this is a monster chapter, and I'm beginning to think here to the end will be long ones. I adore your lovely comments they make me so excited to write more!
> 
> Next time: Keith and Pidge rush back, but someone else beat them to it.


	21. Trust Me, Trust You

They fly to one of the other utility tunnel entrances since they won’t be returning the skiff. Keith makes sure the boat is tucked in the brush, and then follows Pidge into the tunnel.

It’s quick work to get back to the line that leads into Pidge's place and they do so quietly. The last of Keith’s reservoirs are flagging after the longest day ever, so he’s glad to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

At the ladder up Keith goes first, pushing open the hatch. “Lance!” It’s his last bit energy, excitement really, as he crawls up over the metal edge. “We got the supplies and the skiff—!”

It’s dark still, but the second Keith gets on his feet all his danger senses go off. His neck prickles.

Galra purple light flares in front of him. It’s an arm, attached to a man.

 _Shiro_.

“Fine work, Keith,” he says, stepping forward to grab Keith’s hands before he can whip out his knife.

The lights go on in the cavern and it reveals the Galra crew in a circle around him, Shiro at their center.

“Easy now,” Shiro says. He nods to their right and Lance, Allura, and Hunk are there on the ground. Hunk is still unconscious, but Lance and Allura are cuffed and gagged. Allura still looks unwell, but Lance is unscathed. It doesn’t look like there was much of a struggle.

Shiro’s human hand smooths down Keith’s, unfurling his fingers from around the knife. It’s too soft, too intimate. It makes something in his belly flutter against his better sense.

Shiro’s face is blank, but he meets Keith’s eyes. A finger caresses Keith’s palm where no one else can see.

Keith lets the knife go.

Shiro carefully tucks it into his belt and then pulls out a pair of magnacuffs. Keith stares at him as he locks them around his wrists. He’s tired, so tired, and he can’t figure out what he should be feeling about this.

“And who’s this?” A Galra behind Keith comments. Keith doesn’t even need to turn to know Pidge hasn’t gotten away.

He hears her struggle as they pull her out of the tunnel.

But as they get Pidge into the light, Keith has a front row seat to watch Shiro’s face and it—

Shiro isn’t an AI, but he does a remarkable impression of a glitch. His expression flickers through half a dozen movements, and he lurches forward half an inch before he seems to catch himself.  All at once his face goes back to blank. As if nothing ever happened.

It’s unexpected. Interesting.

Keith turns his head just to make sure that it is indeed Pidge.

Pidge curses and fights with the Galra, but a big woman beside Ezor gets a hold of her and quickly disarms her. “Just a bit of bolts,” the Galra says to Shiro.

Pidge tries to elbow her and gets nowhere.

Shiro clears his throat and addresses Keith then. “Now that everyone’s calmed down,” he holds his hand out and Axca places the map in it. “I hear you know how to open this.”

Keith stares at him. The cyborg, the pirate, the _liar._

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to believe those dark eyes that watch him intently, or the cuffs that dig into his wrists. Is Shiro the man who promised him time in the grove earlier, or the pirate who tied up Lance and Allura?

Keith knows what Lance would believe, he knows what he _should_ believe. But what he wants to believe is something completely different.

“Keith it’s over.” Shiro says softly. He offers him the map.

Keith’s so tired he can barely think. It’s been too much, all too much. He looks at Lance and Allura for direction. Allura is shaking her head but Lance is nodding.

It’s Kosmo that makes the decision for Keith. The wolf walks out from behind the Galra and sits down beside Shiro. He looks at straight at Keith. His tail wags.

If pressed at that moment Keith wouldn't be able to give an articulate reason for why this makes the choice for him. He doesn't know whether it’s their bond or the delirium, or something else altogether. All Keith knows is that it does. He may not trust Shiro, but he trusts Kosmo. He knows Kosmo wouldn’t betray him. He wouldn’t.

Keith reaches for the map.

It’s a little more difficult in cuffs, but Keith manages to work the sphere. He unlocks it just as he has in front of Allura time and time again, keeping half the movements hidden, doing it too quick for the eye to follow.

The sphere unlocks.

Light floods out, projecting the map and then, for the first time, a blazing green trail in the air.

It leads out of Pidge's home and into the night. It’s clear to all of them where it goes.

There’s impressive sounds from the Galra. Shiro gasps.

“Finally,” Shiro says, almost to himself. Then he turns to Axca. “We’ll go at fi—“

Keith shifts the map in his hands as Shiro reaches for it, undoing the puzzle locks. The projection dissolves immediately.

Shiro’s eyes snap back to him.

“You want the map?” Keith says, offering it now that it’s locked again. “You’re taking me.”

The edge of Shiro’s mouth quirks up before he can help it. Then his eyes flicker up— to Pidge— and back. “Very well,” he says after thoughtful pause. “We’ll take you all.”

##

They don’t go immediately. The night is longer on Daibazaal, and with all the excitement no one has slept enough. Shiro orders his men to take watch shifts while everyone else rests so they’ll be fresh for the journey.

Lance and Allura are ungagged and Keith and Pidge are taken to the front and given two sleeping rolls separated from each other. They may be cuffed but the distrust is apparent. No fraternization.

They aren’t ordered to sleep after that, but the rest of the Galra begin to settle in and there’s nothing else to do. It’s just as well to Keith, he can barely string two thoughts together. Pidge admits she could use the time for charging.

Escape won’t happen here and now, so it’s best to get some rest. Keith needs to be bright eyed and quick when the opportunity presents itself.  

Ezor, on watch, sits near him. It’s almost funny that Keith has been singled out and given the sleeping roll that is almost outside the dwelling, right beside whoever is on watch.

It’s sort of flattering Shiro thinks he’s the one who needs to be watched the most vigilantly. He’s probably not wrong.

Shiro, when he looks, is near the back beside Lance and Allura, unrolling his own sleeping pad.

Ezor catches his eye and smile mischievously, but doesn’t say anything. Keith rolls over away from her and shuts his eyes. He puts Shiro and the day out of his head. Nothing will get done until he rests.

Sleep, when it comes, is a bottomless black pit.

##

Keith is awoke, for the second time ever, by a hand over his mouth.

He flails, reaching for a knife that isn’t there, but then a heavy mental hand presses down on his chest.

“It’s just me,” Shiro whispers.

It quells Keith for a moment until he remembers the crash landing, the parlay, the handcuffing. He blinks his eyes open, glaring at Shiro who is hunched above him. It’s still dark, but less thick now than when Keith went to sleep.

Keith can tell just by how his brain ramps right up that it’s been hours and hours. He’s at least mostly rested.

“I just wanna talk.”

Shiro lifts his hand from Keith mouth and leans back. Keith quickly sits up, putting a few more inches of distance between them.

“What, so you can lie some more?”

“Shh!” Shiro hisses, immediately looking into the dwelling.

It’s dark, there are bundles of sleeping Galra. Keith can hear the barely there sounds of snoring.

“Come on.” Shiro gets up, waving Keith to follow.

Keith raises an eyebrow at him from the ground, lifting his still cuffed hands. Shiro doesn’t even hesitate, he unlocks the cuffs and stores them in his pocket.

This gets Keith’s attention. He gets up and follows Shiro out into the night.

They walk a distance from the entrance. It's not so far they wouldn’t be able to hear a shout, but it is far enough to not have to whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says first.

“You keep saying that.”

“I was buying you time,” Shiro sighs. “But then Plenk was on watch and he noticed the skiff missing and tracked footsteps back to the tunnel. What was I supposed to do, tell them we wouldn’t go?”

“You could have.”

“I did what I had to. No one was hurt, and I saw to it myself earlier that Allura and Kosmo were given treatment.”

Keith scoffs. “Well captives are no good to you dead.” .

“Keith—“

Hands reach for him and Keith smacks them away. “No!” He hisses. “You say trust you, trust you, but for what? You say you have to do this but you won’t tell me why.” He steps closer then, a trickle of an idea forming. “You touch me softly,” he says putting his hands on Shiro’s chest. “And then you handcuff me.”

“I had to—!” Shiro’s hands come up to his forearms.

“To keep up appearances, so you say.” He bows his head, nearly touching Shiro’s shoulder. His voice drops soft, vulnerable. “And what happens when the appearance is that we have to be cowed? What happens when they demand our heads?”

It’s the tinge of honesty that sells it. That has Shiro’s hands sliding down to his waist as he pulls him in. Shiro tucks his head down into Keith’s throat.

“It won’t come to that. I’ll— I’m going to figure it out. I— Keith—“

But Keith cares not for this stuttering rehashing. His hands slip around Shiro’s waist and then bump the handle of his knife.

Shiro makes the deduction a second too late, and by then Keith has pulled the knife out and has hooked a foot behind Shiro’s ankle.

Shiro hits the ground on his back with a squawk, and by then Keith is on him. The knife transforms in his hand and Keith sits himself on Shiro’s lap, pressing the blade cleanly to his throat.

“Don’t move,” Keith warns as Shiro’s metal hand comes up to fend him off.

It’s not a sure thing, Shiro could still try and toss him and test his luck that the blade wouldn’t slip, but he doesn’t. Both hands fall back to the ground.

“Keith.”

“I can’t tell if you’re sloppy or just foolish,” Keith says.

“Foolish,” Shiro supplies. His eyes dip to try and look at the blade. “Nice sword.”

Keith hums. “Sendak didn’t think so.”

Something delighted then appears on Shiro’s face. “Was wondering why we hadn’t received any response back from him.” His smile curls a little wicked. “Never much liked him anyway.”

It shouldn’t be, but it’s a relief to hear. Keith didn't think there was much love lost between Shiro and Sendak, but he's been wrong about Shiro before. The approval emboldens him.

“Now,” Keith says, “lets try for a little more honesty. You want me to trust you, then give me a reason. Why are you doing this?”

The delight disappears, and once again Shiro is solemn, serious. “Because I have to.”

Keith smiles sarcastically. “Try harder.”

“I—“ Shiro’s face goes through several changes then, eyes on Keith as if trying to gauge him.

“I could have sold you out earlier,” Keith adds. “I could have told your crew what you said in the parlay. Could have even spun a story about how you’re sweet on me.”

“I am—“

“BUT.” Keith interrupts. “I’m not that kind of person. You may be unlawful, untruthful, a _pirate_ , but I’m not. You say you’re afraid to trust me, but I’ve given you no reason. I have been who I am the entire time. If that’s not enough, then I honestly don’t know what we are even doing here.”

“It’s not you—“

“It’s me?” Keith finishes for him. “That may be. But if you care for me like you say you do, then this is what I’m asking for. I’m asking you here and now, for the final time, because I want to trust you. Why are you doing this Shiro?”

Shiro’s eyes are dark in the poor lighting, but the intensity is unmistakable. Keith can see him thinking, so he lets him, lets the empty air flitter out between them. His hand stays firm on the handle of his sword.

“I… know Katie,” Shiro says finally.

“Katie?”

“Pidge. She’s uh… A few years ago I was the pilot for an expedition for my friend Matt and his family. It wasn’t anything fancy or big, just to a local moon.  His dad was working on a geology paper and needed samples. Thought it would be fun, like a vacation.” Shiro swallows hard and Keith pulls the blade a hair up so not to cut him. “We ran into pirates though. They captured us, took us to their ship. We didn’t have anything of value so we were… sold. Matt and I ended up in the fighting pits, but I convinced them to just take me, that I would be worth it.

“I fought there until I’d earned enough credit and fame that I was picked up by Zarkon’s son Lotor. This was just after Zarkon’s disappearance. Lotor tasked me with delivering him Zarkon’s treasure… and if I could he said he would free Matt and his family.”

Keith snaps his hanging mouth shut. Then, “Pidge is Matt’s…?”

“Sister,” Shiro says.

Keith thinks this over. Pidge didn’t give Shiro more than a passing glance, but she also has huge gaps in her memory. It would account for how alarmed Shiro was to see her.

“Then why not just say all this in the first place?” Keith asks.

Shiro’s sigh then is bone heavy. “I’ve spent years with the worst of the Galra. I’ve been manipulated, tortured, backstabbed both literally and metaphorically. I— the rest of the crew are loyal to me for now, but I know some of them would take any advantage they could. A lot of them didn’t like that Lotor put me in charge. I couldn’t risk telling you and having it get back to the crew.”

“How do you even know you can trust Lotor to follow through?” Keith asks next, because it’s the obvious flaw in Shiro’s plan.

The man looks away then, his eyes going off into the distance. The lines of his face fall into something resembling defeat. His voice, when it comes out, is brittle. “I don’t know, but I have to believe him,” he says. “What other choice do I have?”

At this declaration Keith lifts the sword off Shiro's throat and drops it carelessly in the dirt. He can see the glossiness of Shiro’s eyes and it tears right through the last of his resistance. It’s the same intensity as on the ship, as in the parlay. Shiro laid bare before him is as impossible to withstand as it’s always been.

Keith falls, like it’s nothing, into Shiro.

They clutch each other, lips meeting in desperate fervor. It's been too long, far too long.

“You mean it?” Keith whispers into his mouth.

Shiro’s hand comes up to card through the side of his hair. “I meant everything I’ve said to you.”

Keith kisses him hard, mouth opening in a flush of heat. Then he pulls back. “Did the Galra take your arm?”

Shiro breathes out a _yes,_ before pulling Keith back in. They kiss for seconds more.

“How are you going to get us out of this?” Keith asks when they break again.

Shiro presses their foreheads together. “I don’t know. I’ll… take us to the treasure. Then… after we load up I can give you all an opportunity to sneak out of the ship. Once we have the treasure I don’t think it’ll matter to the other Galra.”

“And what about you?”

Shiro’s warm breath blows across his face. “I’ll collect Matt and his Dad… guess I don’t have to worry about Pidge anymore. And then leave. Go back to Earth finally.”

It’s overly simplistic. Painfully hopeful. Keith kisses the corner of his mouth. “Will you?”

Shiro closes his eyes as if he’s in pain. “I will," he says. "Victory or death.”

“What?” Keith pulls away only for Shiro to hush him and draw him back in.

“It’s a Galra saying.”

“How cheerful.”

“Yeah.” Shiro shuffles beneath him and then his metal hand is stroking Keith’s back. “We should get back. I’m on watch, but someone could wake up.”

They are sprawled out on the ground looking deeply inappropriate. But now that the moment is ending, Keith is desperate to keep it. Even if he knows now that Shiro is faking it, Keith is less than eager to go back to facing that stone cold cyborg.

“Are we doing this then?" He asks. "Trusting each other?”

Shiro’s thumb rubs over his cheek gently. “You tell me.”

Keith thinks over everything Shiro’s said and done recently. He didn’t have to wake Keith and bring him out here and try to explain. For all intents and purposes he’s won. He has Keith, the map, plenty of hostages. There’s nothing to gain from spinning Keith a story.

That only leaves the possibility that he’s telling the truth.

Keith sits up and looks down at Shiro. He’s scarred, down one biological arm, built like a fucking tank. It made sense that he's been in Galra fighting pits picking up scars and muscles. It made sense that he freaked out when he saw Pidge but couldn’t say anything. It made sense that Shiro has this cold and dead side to him when he's been made to survive in enemy territory for so long. 

And Keith has to admit he would have made a lot of the same decisions. He would have defended his own goal fiercely, repressed everything but what was helpful in his success. It wouldn't have been living, but he would have made it through with enough parts to reassemble later.

“We are,” Keith says definitively. “So tell me what that means.”

Shiro arches up all at once and kisses him once, twice, again. Then he folds Keith in tightly, his breath shuttering as he holds him. The sound reminds Keith of repressed sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I can't believe they made up and with four chapters to go, that's amazing I bet there will be absolutely no more struggles!
> 
> You will also notice that the chapter number got bumped up to 25. Plz save me from myself.
> 
> Next time: the end of the treasure hunt.


	22. The Loot of a Thousand Worlds

When true morning comes, Shiro is the first up, rousing them all, hurrying breakfast along. The Galra crew give few complains though, as the day promises fortune.

Under Axca’s watchful eye, Keith and Pidge are reunited with Lance and Allura. Allura is much improved this morning, and when she peels back the bandage the skin is already knitting. Despite their handcuffed circumstances Lance is downright cheerful that Allura is doing better.

“You know,” Axca says in a low voice as they load Hunk onto a grav-gurney. “I heard we are… down one crew member.”

Keith meets her eyes to judge how she’s taking it. She smiles at him. “A shame,” Keith says neutrally. Lances eyes are boring into him, curious but not willing to interrupt.

“Not really.” Axca says. She straps Hunk carefully in. “Can I take him to one of the skiffs?”

Allura steps up to protest, but Keith turns to her, tries his best to convey… something he doesn’t have words for. The captain looks at him questioningly, then at Axca.

“Very well,” Allura says.

Axca nods. “Will probably take a few minutes, surely you can be unsupervised that long without getting into trouble?”

The Galra woman doesn’t wait for an answer. She pulls Hunk's gurney and heads out through the Galra that are packing and loading the skiffs.

“What in the stars was that all about?” Lance says a moment later.

Keith turns back to them, both Pidge and Allura are looking at him for explanation.

“I had a… discussion with Shiro last night.”

“Keith—!” Lance throws his hands up exasperated.

“No, no, listen,” Keith keeps his voice low. “I got answers, real answers this time.” He can’t help that his eyes go to Pidge, who gives him a look of confusion. “He’s doing this because…” Keith trails off, unsure suddenly if he should share. It’s not that he doesn’t trust them but…

“Because what? Or you can’t tell us because now you’re respecting a pirates privacy?!”

“Lance,” Allura says calmly, putting a hand on Lance's shoulder.

“It’s complicated," Keith says. "But I think there will be an opportunity to escape. Once they have the treasure the Galra won’t care if we suddenly disappear.”

“I would agree with that assessment,” Pidge adds. “They’ve been almost pleasant since getting the map. There’s no reason to mess with us once they have what they’re after.”

Lance huffs. “So after all this time we’re just going to cut and run?”

“Do you have a better plan?” Keith asks.

Lance opens his mouth and then closes it. “I think,” Allura says, drawing all their eyes with her authority, “we should trust in Keith. He’s like a brother to you, yes?” She aims this at Lance who nods. “Then surely we can assume that Keith would not put you in danger. We should trust that… whatever relationship he’s built with our captors may actually pay off for us.”

Lances eyes come back to him, and Keith meets them directly. Keith holds out his hand, pinky extended.

For once Lance says nothing, but nods and then hooks his finger with Keith’s.

##

When they’re ready to leave Keith is uncuffed and given his knife. Shiro slips it to him on the sly with a low, _don’t make me regret this._ Keith hides it under his jacket with a small smile. It goes a long way to making Keith feel okay about their situation.

For the journey Keith ends up on the lead skiff with Shiro, Axca, Pidge, and Hunk. It’s fairly empty compared to the other boats, but Hunk’s gurney takes up significant room.

It’s good in the way that Keith and Pidge get to sit together in the front and talk quietly as Shiro and Axca are behind Hunk at the rear steering.

Keith has the map in hand, holding it tightly as they whizz through the green landscape following the projected path.

“So,” Pidge says when an hour in there’s a break in the conversation. “Want to explain why you and Shiro keep looking at me?”

Keith coughs, abrupt, and his eyes swivel back ahead of them.

“Because neither of you are particularly subtle.”

“It’s, uh.” Keith should tell her, but he’s afraid of the fallout. She clearly doesn’t remember Shiro, and it might cause unnecessary stress.

“Spill. I’m a big girl. Got my first hard drive before you could even walk.”

Keith doesn’t know nearly enough about AI beings, so he doesn’t know whether her statement is literal or not. “Uh. Shiro said he knows you. Knows… your family.”

“My family?” Her eyes widen and she pushes her glasses up her nose. “He knows Matt?”

It’s a hell of a confirmation. “Yeah.”

“I don’t…” he can see her think about it then, her eyes picking up a glow. “I—“

“Pidge!” He hisses at her, recognizing the oncoming glitch.

It’s too late. She jerks hard, eyes fluttering closed. “Moon— moon— my d-d-dad— I don’t— ERROR CODE K3R8–“

“Pidge!” Keith grabs her hand, jostling her to try and bring her out of it.

“What’s going on?” Shiro shouts up at them through the rush of wind.

Keith shoots him a look. “Nothing! She just gets a little glitchy once in a while! It’s fine!”

And it is. Pidge has stopped trying to access the memories and her eyes are open once again. Normal.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to say and cause you to,” Keith gestures.

“Yikes,” Pidge shakes her head as if to dispel it. “Uh yeah. I don’t remember. But that’s… interesting.”

“Uh huh.”

“Explains why he looks at me like he’s seen a ghost,” Pidge grins. “Still wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him.”

Keith looks at her with a wry smile. “How far could you throw him?”

Pidge sits back, smug. “I may look little, but these hands have never lost an arm wrestling competition yet.”

This does make Keith laugh, and then he remembers the night before in her house. “So all that with the Galra...?”

She shrugs. “I could’ve taken her,” she says, “but statistically it’s better to let your enemies think they’ve won. At least until the right opportunity presents itself.”

Keith couldn’t agree more.

##

Not much later the green trail they're following being to flicker faster, as if they're getting close. Shiro slows the skiff.

Ahead if a thicket of trees and vines that the projection runs right into. Shiro takes them into the trees slow, navigating through the vines.

Ten minutes later they break free into a small clearing, and they can all tell by the way the green line is vibrating that they’re very close. Shiro maneuvers the boat down to the ground and the others follow course.

Shiro dictates several Galra to stay behind with the skiffs and watch over a still cuffed Lance and Allura. Kosmo is left at the ships too, but Keith is pretty sure Shiro does so as a kindness to him. Nothing will happen to Lance and Allura if Kosmo is there to oversee it. 

“This is all starting to seem… familiar.” Pidge says as they start their hike into the greenery. Shiro leads, his arm transformed into a sword to cut away the vines, Axca follows behind them with the other Galra chosen to come along. Keith can’t help but notice most of them are the larger, more brutish crew.

“Oh yeah?”

Pidge says nothing else on it, but she looks peaky, so Keith doesn’t press. They both need to keep their wits about them right now.

The overgrowth falls apart easily under Shiro’s sword, and it isn’t long before the man cuts through the last of it and they stumble out into a clearing.

No, a cliff.

The green light from the map projection is near sparking now, but it ends just at the edge of the cliff. Shiro marches to the edge and looks over. When he turns back to them, he’s frowning.

They all walk closer to see… but there’s nothing. Below the cliff is a huge gorge, but there’s nothing special about it. Below is green with trees and vines and no treasure.

“Where is it?!” Shiro walks back to the spot where the map ends.

“There’s nothing!” A Galra snarls, “a great big stinking nothing!”

The map in Keith’s hands clicks and the light sucks back inside. Gears move by themselves and then it shuts off, ominously.

“What’s going on, Keith?”

Already his hands are moving over the familiar surface to unlock it again, but nothing happens. “I don’t know, it won’t open,” he says as he tries again and again.

The gold sphere is unresponsive. Lifeless.

The Galra begin to get rowdy, disappointment and anger rising in the air. Shiro shoots him a look and then turns his attentions to his crew. The big Galra woman shoves Keith and he stumbles. “We should never have listened to this boy!”

“Zethrid, please,” Shiro says, but the Galra start to shout him down.

Keith’s stopped listening. In his stumble his foot has caught on some greenery and torn it away. Beneath that he can see shiny metal. Keith bends down and claws the vines away with one hand. More metal with signs and symbols appears before him. Scraping away more reveals a small divot in the ground. The perfect shape for the sphere to sit in.

The voices are rising behind him. Above all he can hear Shiro’s distressed but authoritarian tone trying to get the cacophony under control. Trying to prevent the violence some of them are shouting about.

Keith doesn’t think about it, he shoves the sphere into the hole.

Immediately the entire area lights up in that same green light. All the Galra go silent.

The light travels down the cliff side in a blink and then back up. Keith scrambles back to his feet just as the sphere begins to project again. This time it forms a green globe with a smattering of stars inside. It reminds Keith of the holo star charts that Lance has for study.

Then, before them, the light extends and shoots right up the side of the cliff side and into the sky. It unfolds into an enormous triangle portal.

Inside the portal is dark space, stars, and a recognizable cloud of space dust.

“Is that the Lagoon Nebula?” Keith says. It’s enormous and gorgeous and right in front of them.

“But that’s… halfway across the galaxy,” Shiro says at his elbow.

Pidge’s words come back to Keith then. When he’d asked her about Zarkon treasure she’d glitchingly talked about a door. He looks at the sphere before him and reaches in to touch one of the stars. The portal snaps closed and reopens to an orange desert planet.

“A door, opening and closing,” Keith says more to himself than anything. It makes sense, it makes _so_ much sense. He can see now in the map before him stars and planets he knows. He touches one and it opens to Kinapis. Then he he spots the tiny hook that is the spaceport.

Sure enough when Keith touches it the door opens to just beside the spaceport. The glow of the fake moon is so close Keith can see cruisers coming in and out.

“That’s how Zarkon did it,” Keith says in wonder. “He used this portal to roam the universe, stealing treasure for the Galran empire.”

“But where’s the treasure?” Shiro asks, reaching in to touch stars, the door flickering open and closed.

Pidge had said something about that too. “The treasure is in the centroid of the mechanism.” Keith repeats. The door flickers open and closed showing him half a dozen worlds as Shiro touches different stars on the map. Keith looks down at the metal beneath their feet. “What if the whole planet is the mechanism? And then the treasure would be… in the center.”

Shiro makes a noise of frustration. “Then how are we supposed to get it?” There are similar comments from the other Galra.

This is such a simple deduction. Keith looks at the map, at the center star upon which the entire map is oriented.

“You just have to open the right door.” He leans in, pushing away Shiro’s hands to touch the star in the center of the map.

Daibazaal.

The door reopens to a vast, mechanical space glowing in purple light. The core of the planet. Keith steps toward it, enchanted.

His hand goes first, phasing right through the portal seamlessly. He steps in. It’s as easy as walking through any other doorway, but the view is—

They’re on the metal core of the planet that is slowly revolving. The core has regular holes where what looks like gravity stabilizing beams are being shot into them at interval. Just that would be interesting enough to study, if it wasn’t for the _treasure._

There is some gold, some antiques and bric-a-brac, but most of the treasure is a far more valuable good: Quintessence.

Pure neon purple, it's everywhere. In small vials, in enormous containers. It's stacked and discarded all over the surface of the core.  

Shiro walks into the portal beside him, and then most stumbles in his own surprise at seeing it.

Keith doesn’t blame him. It’s frankly astounding. He knows how much they paid for the fuel to fly the Castle of Lions, and there is more Quintessence in the tiny vial beside his foot right now than went in their long travel. He picks it up and looks at it. It’s more Quintessence than Keith could buy in an entire lifetime.

The rest of the Galra pour into the portal with a variety of cheers and excited hollers. Some of them immediately grab at vials of Quintessence, holding it to their breasts like precious diamonds. Others go for the gold, scooping it up in their large fists.

Pidge appears beside Keith, overlooking the frolicking Galra. “This is all seeming very familiar,” she says.

Off to the side Keith spots a skiff, old and crashed and piled in various treasures. It gives his an idea. An easy way to transport some of this treasure out quickly. “C’mon,” he says starting off in that direction.

At the skiff, Keith has to lift Pidge up so she can reach the railing and pull herself up. She shrieks as she gets on deck, summoning Keith. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the shock of what is on the ship besides treasure though. Not in a hundred million years. 

There, on the deck of a ruined skiff, is Zarkon.

Dead.

“Captain Zarkon.”

“In the flesh,” Pidge says. “Kinda.”

He’s propped up in a bejeweled throne, but Pidge is right, he’s _kinda_ fleshy, but mostly bones. Still a terrible sight to behold in his infamous coat and hat. It's almost worse in death because the hollow eyes of his skull stare ominously at them.

“I— I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Pidge says.

“No kidding.” Keith steps closer, looking the man over. It’s strange to see him like this. Keith’s read all the stories, heard the rumors. Captain Zarkon had been the ultimate pirate, cruel and uncompromising, he’d never lost a fight or a ship, and he was known for appearing out of nothingness and robbing someone blind.

Seeing him here, now, just a skeleton in a chair is… humbling. The most fearsome man in the universe so consumed with hoarding treasure he created a whole planet to keep it. Keith remembers hearing the boasts, the whispered envy between drunken men at the inn. They'd wished for Zarkon's treasure, dreamt of how they would enjoy it. But no one had. Not even Zarkon. 

He'd collected it all but now was too dead to do anything with it.

“No, Keith, I think we should go.”

“Just a second.” Keith can’t tear his eyes away, he's enraptured. 

“Keith I’m— I’m just not— there’s a reason that Zarkon—“

She starts to glitch, but before Keith can turn to help her his eye catches on something gripped in one of Zarkon’s skeletal hands. He reaches for it immediately and pries it out from between the bones.

It’s long and slender, metal with circuits. Not _familiar_ , but...

Keith whirls around to Pidge who’s backed off to the other end of the boat, looking distressed as her mind grinds over the missing data.

“Pidge,” he says, covering the distance at once. “I think I just found your memories.”

He grabs her and she startles, but then doesn’t move as he holds the drive up to the back of her head. The slot there is the perfect size. He pushes it in and hears the click of it locking in place.

Pidge makes a sound, tinny and strange and then her eyes flare. She reboots.

It takes just a second for her to come back online. “Wow!” She says, pushing her glasses back up. “I… remember! Keith, I remember! Everything! Right up until Zarkon pulled my drive so I wouldn’t tell anyone about the treasure and the booby trap—“

From above there is a great, groaning sound of metal that cuts her off. They turn and watch, in horror, as one of the magnet canons stabilizing the core detaches and falls, crashing heavily onto the surface of the core. The ground all around them cracks. 

Everything erupts into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no place in the story for this, so here's my headcanon for how Pidge works in this AU:
> 
> After the Holts have Matt, they learn they can't have any more kids. But they've always wanted two. AI is readily available so they build a baby. She ages just as kids do, but it's done just by replacing her parts. She is in every way that matters, Matt's sister, even if she's not flesh. And she has glasses because those are how she scans people and landscapes, but she can take them off so people don't feel uncomfortable.
> 
> We're making a push to finish this up, I will drop another chapter tomorrow!
> 
> Next time: A booby trap and a misunderstanding.


	23. Choice

“Keith!” Pidge yells over the sound of more groaning metal. “Zarkon wanted to make sure that no one could ever steal his treasure, so he rigged this place to blow!”

Another canon detaches and strikes the core. This one, larger than the first, fractures the core and knocks it off its rotation.

The purple beams continue to shoot, but don’t make it to their designated holes. Instead they start blasting through treasure, vaporizing the Quintessence when they encounter it. One of the Galra nearest a beam almost loses an arm to it. Keith looks for Shiro.

“Keith we have to get out of here!” Pidge shouts.

Shiro’s a distance away still, watching now as the whole place starts to unravel. Keith feels the impending loss acutely. To get so far only to have it pulled out beneath you at the last second. It makes where he’s standing even more important.

Keith makes a quick deduction. They could leave right now and make it out, but what of the treasure? There’s no time to explain to Pidge how it’s as much for her benefit as Shiro and his.

“Pidge,” he snaps just as she’s trying to tug him toward the rail. “Go back to the boats, get everyone on a skiff and ready to leave…” he runs over to the rusted engine of the boat they’re on and tears off the covering panel. “If I’m not back in five, leave without me!”

“What?!”

“Pidge, there’s no time to argue, go!”

“The treasure’s not worth this!” She cries.

But Keith is already working with the wiring to connect the dead ship to a nearby vial of Quintessence. His eyes flicker to Shiro across the way who is now trying to pull his crew out of the path of the beams.

Pidge is just as quick to catch him. “Shiro,” she says, then her face gets dark. “Shiro, I remember, he’s…” Another canon detaches above, shaking the ground as it hits far too close for comfort.

“Go!” Keith shouts.

Pidge wavers, but goes to the edge of the boat, puts one leg over. “Don’t trust him, Keith. Whatever he’s said, he’s changed. He attacked my brother, I remember—“

But that’s all the time left. The ground tilts as the core cracks apart, and Pidge falls backwards out of the boat. Keith gives just enough attention to see her running for the doorway, and then snaps back to hot wiring the boat.

All around him is the sizzle of the gravity beams, and the groaning of metal as the core collapses. The ship is starting to slide, it’s now or never.

Keith twists another two wires together and then slams the ignition button. The ship comes to life and the engines push up to hovering above the shattered ground, no longer sliding.

“Keith!”

He spins at his name just in time to see Shiro haul himself up onto the deck. “Aren’t you a marvel!” The man grins at him, casting an appreciative eye to all the Quintessence on the ship’s deck.

But now Keith’s uncertain. Pidge’s memories were supposed to illuminate Shiro’s backstory, not cast doubt. She said Shiro _attacked_ Matt.

She said not to trust him.

Keith pulls out his knife just as Shiro crosses to him. It flares purple and becomes the sword.

“Get back!”

The man stops, confused and then hurt as he looks Keith over. “What?”

“Pidge got her memories back,” Keith says.

Around them are awful sounds of destruction. Shiro looks nervously out beyond the bow and then back at Keith.

“Keith this isn’t the time—“

“Isn’t it? She told me you _attacked_ Matt, is that true?”

Shiro opens his mouth and then shuts it. Then, he nods.

A cold feeling spills down Keith’s stomach even as Shiro throws his arms up. “But it wasn’t like that! Keith they were going to throw us in the pit, I had to—“

“You’re always saying that!” Keith shouts above the roar now. “ _You have to_ , it’s not a good enough excuse!”

“The pits would have killed Matt!” Shiro roars back. “So yes, I did attack him, I broke his leg.” Shiro looks furious now, desperate and backlit in red and purple neon. “And you know what? They sent him off to work in the labs with his father. It saved his _life_ Keith!”

The blade lowers, Keith blinks at him. He feels foolish for once again doubting Shiro. For not—

One of the lasers catches the side of the boat.

It knocks the skiff wildly, and tosses them both violently off the other side. Keith sees Shiro catch the railing with his metal arm, but he isn’t so lucky himself.

There’s nothing left below the ship but sleek metal in broken pieces. Keith tumbles across the ground, off the ledge. Below that is plasma and death. He twists midair and plunges his sword into the side of one of the metal core pieces. It catches and arrests his fall.

Keith hits the metal wall hard, but keeps tight hold of the sword handle. Below is the terrible, blistering heat of the core imploding. In every direction there’s nothing to grab for, no leverage to gain.

It’s bad.

Above him he can see Shiro on the ledge, trying to pull the ship out of the beam.

“Shiro!”

Shiro turns to look at him and swears. He keeps hold of the ship with his metal hand, extending it out, and reaching down for Keith with his other.

“Reach for me!” Shiro shouts.

Keith takes one hand off the sword to try, but there’s at least a foot between them. Too much space, no leverage.

“I can’t!” There’s no overcoming the distance, but he tries. Shiro tries. It’s not enough.

The sword slips then, his weight and movement pulling it easily down through the metal. Keith snaps back to holding it with two hands, but the damage is done. He’s slipped another two feet down. Too far from where Shiro is standing.

Around them everything is falling apart, debris and Quintessence toppling down into the inferno below. It’s seconds before something shakes Keith free or the sword slips again. Seconds before the end.

He looks up at Shiro, desperate and afraid. He doesn’t want to die, but his throat is too clogged for words. All he has is the fear, the doubt, the hope.

Shiro is looking down at him just as brokenly, torn between two things. Keith doesn't even blame him. Shiro had said he'd do anything for the Holts, anything for his family. Keith would never begrudge him that. It hurts, but how is Keith to demand Shiro choose him? To give up the hope that he can save two other people? 

Shiro can't possibly choose him and that's the hard truth. Keith can make peace with that in the small amount of time he has left.

And then, shockingly, Shiro releases the boat.

The man slides down over the ledge and grabs for Keith just as the blade starts to slip again. This time their hands clasp and hold tight. Shiro has him.

It's easy them for him to swing Keith up onto the ledge and out of danger. He pulls himself back up after.

On the ledge they’re just in time to see the boat, brimming with Quintessence, disintegrated by the beam. The last of both their hopes for treasure, gone.

But Keith’s alive.

Shiro gave up… all of it to save him.

He shouldn't be happy about it, but he can’t help his foolish heart. Shiro _choose_ him, knowing what it would cost.

It ignites something in Keith. It makes him feel just like the moment on the mast facing Sendak. Like he's invincible, like he can succeed, he can make this work somehow. Quintessence or not, Keith will get those Holts back for Shiro and Pidge. He swears it to himself.

They get to their feet, hands still clasped, and run back toward the portal. 

##

When they walk through the portal the Castle Of Lions is just outside, planet side. Pidge leans over the side and looks down. “Keith! We’ve got three minutes thirty-four seconds to planet’s destruction!” She looks then at Shiro. “He can’t come.”

They don’t have time to argue this, and Keith isn’t leaving Shiro behind, not now that it _finally_ feels like they’re on the same wavelength.

“Pidge do you trust me?” Keith asks as he scrambles up the ladder that’s been thrown down. He has to let go of Shiro’s hand, but he knows the man follows.

Pidge doesn’t answer, still looks skeptical.

“Later then,” Keith says as he gets on deck. He pulls Shiro up and keeps a hand around his wrist. “I’m not leaving him to die.”

Pidge huffs and turns away. She walks back across the deck to Lance who is haphazardly steering the ship beside Allura who is barking commands.

The ship whips around and starts full speed away from the portal, gaining altitude and trying to avoid the debris shooting out from the splitting ground and the open portal. Unfortunately Lance isn't a top notch pilot even in the best conditions. They get not far at all before something punches right through the top of the mast, cracking the sail. It topples sideways and they scramble out of the way, but it still hits the side of the deck and the lift engine on that side. The ship sags, slowing down.

Pidge is at the readings console, flicking quickly through the resulting readings. “Left lift demobilized Captain! Thrusters at 30%!”

Allura makes a sound of dismay.

“30%?!” Lance cries. “That’s—“ Keith can see him doing the mental math. “We won’t clear the planet's atmosphere in time!”

Keith takes a deep breath. He’s come too far to give up now. He lets go of Shiro and goes to the side of the boat to look over it.

Below the planet is completely fractured, red and purple and quaking as it tries to hold together. But then Keith sees the portal. He knows what he needs to do.

“We have to turn around!” Keith orders.

There’s a chorus of confusion from Lance and Pidge and Allura.

“There’s a portal back there, we can exit through it!”

“Keith, my dude," Lance says, "aren’t you forgetting that the portal opens to a raging inferno?!”

Keith rushes over to where the mast broke the engines, and pulls one of engine missiles off. A single one is about the size of an engine on his solar sail back home.

“Yes,” he yells back at Lance, “but I’m going to change it! I’ll open a different door!”

Shiro appears at his side just as Keith is dragging a sheet of metal closer. Beyond them Allura and Lance argue before Pidge interrupts to tell them there’s _one minute twenty-nine seconds left_.

That solves it real quick. Allura orders the ship to be turned back around. There’s no other choice.

“How can I help?” Shiro asks beside him.

“I need this,” he gestures at the metal, “attached.”

Shiro nods, his hand transforming into something similar to a food torch. It’s just a few seconds then for him to weld the metal sheet to the engine.

And then they have a makeshift surfer. Quickly Shiro helps him heft it up to the railing before Keith’s gets on. It’s not a beauty, and it will certainly ride rough, but it’ll have to do. It's the best he's got.

“No matter what happens,” Keith says staring at Shiro, “make sure the ship keeps heading straight for that portal.”

Shiro nods but the worry on his brows says he has more he’d like to say. There’s no time. They stare at each other for a precious second more.

“Fifty-eight seconds!” Pidge screams.

Keith kicks the tab on the engine and it flares to life.

He rockets immediately off the edge of the ship with the force. It’s a wild thing under his feet, near uncontrollable as he crouches to get a hand on the front and tilt his weight to get it aimed in the right direction.

Failure is not an option here. Keith promised and promised, and he’s not about to disappoint anyone. He can do this, he has to do this.

He gets the surfer in the right direction, the engine sputtering out for a second before he kicks it back on. Before him the planet swells and contracts, fires blaze up from the crevasses, debris flies everywhere. It looks like hell.

Far, far on the other side, Keith sees the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The unfortunate thing about single POV is that you don't get to see the hilarious shenanigans of Lance escaping his handcuffs (thin wrists) and overpowering the Galra guard (likely with Kosmo's help lets be real). 
> 
> Anyway for all you cats who haven't seen Treasure Planet, that's how the ship ends up outside the portal in such a small window of time. Lance and Allura get free and go and retrieved it, tying up Galra on the way. 
> 
> Another chapter coming tomorrow!
> 
> Next time: fifty-eight seconds


	24. Second Chance

Navigating an exploding planet is similar to piloting through canyons and a comet tail but times a thousand.

Keith whips the surfer around debris and chunks of the planet that push up suddenly into his path. The surfer won’t get altitude enough to avoid it all, and there’s no time to try.

So he does what he’s always been best at. He pilots.

The surfer bangs against everything, and twice more the engine cuts out, but it doesn’t matter. Keith kicks the engine back on, guides the front of the surfer, and pushes the limits.

All around the heat of the planet is suffocating. He gets hit by minor debris and once a shower of sparks or something molten that grazes too close and burns through his pants. It’s painful but Keith doesn’t take his eyes off the prize. He can't afford to.

The portal still glows green from a distance. It's easy to pick out as everything else has become molten red. Keith spins and ducks and swerves, blazing across the collapsing planet, the distance to his goal shrinking by the second.

He can’t afford to look, but Keith hopes the ship is coming, he hopes they aren’t yet out of time. There no way for him to know, no way for him to even guess, he just has to hope. That and focus on the steering so he doesn't get brained by projectiles. It's taking every ounce of his skill and concentration.

At last Keith does get out of the debris field and onto the stretch of ground that once was the forest. It's all burned up now, slow burning fires and ash are all that's left. Ahead is the portal. All around it the ground is cracked but it's still flat, it's maybe the last structurally sound bit of planet left.

He’s almost there, he’s going to make it—

It’s then that the surfer engine cuts out again. Keith kicks it to restart, but this time… nothing happens.

“No!” He roars as he begins to lose altitude and speed. He kicks the engine again and again.

Nothing happens and nothing happens and then he starts to fall.

There’s no ground below him, he’s between metal plates. Below is just a horrible plasmic pit. It's like he never escaped the core. 

With nothing to stabilize its direction, the surfer starts to spin down like a leaf falling from a tree. Keith screams in frustration and kicks furiously at the engine.

But he’s sinking fast into the crevasse, the heat rising. Everything in him is vibrating technicolor, driving him on, screaming in his head to fix it. Because if Keith doesn’t get out of this hole, doesn’t open the portal, it’s all lost. Everything is lost. It would have all been for nothing. 

It can’t end like this. Keith _refuses_.

An idea comes then and Keith doesn’t even debate it, it’s all he has. Quickly he leans the surfer sideways with his weight and jams the engine against the nearest metal wall. It slows his descent a little, but it’s the sparks that start shooting off that really count.

Keith holds the position, slipping down the wall like that in a blaze of sparks. The metal beneath him heats, the engine begins to glow red. Keith holds.

Just as he can no longer stand it, just as the heat starts to clog his lungs... the engine lights.

It burns to touch the front of the surfer, even with his gloves, but Keith does it. He has to. He grits his teeth and pulls the front up.

The engine rockets up faster than before. Superheated, it jets him up, and up and up. Just above he can see the ship passing the crevasse he’s fallen down and it’s too close, he's out of time—!

It’s seconds, or maybe just one breath. Keith comes up out of the chasms, putting both hands on the burning surfer to spin it and switch his direction.

The Castle of Lions is above him, sailing full speed toward a blinding inferno.

But the surfer is faster, Keith is faster. He rockets up underneath the ship, eyes only for the glowing green globe. His fingers are blistering and his lungs are heaving but he has to, he has to make it.

And then he’s just six, three, one yard away—

He reaches out.

Keith's finger hits the hooked moon of the spaceport as he flies by the map, and the portal closes and reopens just as he and the ship reach it. There's not a millisecond to spare.

They pass through the portal and instead of the exploding core it's…

Space.

Beautiful, unbroiling space.

Behind them is a shockwave, a catastrophe. Keith twists around to look and it’s the planet going up, debris everywhere.

Then it must hit the device, because the portal snaps closed and takes all of its horrors with it. There’s just cold, quiet space there, like it never was.

From the ship come exclamations of glee. Hoots and hollers and his name shouted triumphantly. Keith flies around to the side to land, grinning ear to ear. Shiro is there, smiling back.

It’s magnetic then. Keith steps off the surfer just as the engine cools and dies, and he falls right into Shiro’s arms.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, impressed or dismayed it’s hard to tell. It doesn’t matter, because then his hands are on Keith’s face, pulling him in, kissing him hard.

Keith laughs into it, euphoria filling his chest, spilling into the space between them.

“That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” Shiro says between kisses. “Amazing, magnificent, phenomenal, I’ve never seen piloting like that… you saved us.”

Keith has his own hands looped around Shiro’s neck. “Well you saved me first.”

Shiro smiles a little bashful and a whole lot earnest.

“We saved each other.”

Shiro pulls him back in for another sweet kiss.

“Alright, alright!” Comes Lance’s voice. Keith feels his hand pulling Shiro away. “Quit making out for two seconds and let me hug Keith too!”

Keith laughs and lets go so Lance can insert himself. The boy hugs him tightly. “That was completely insane! I am so glad you’re okay! We are never, ever telling Veronica!” Lance declares, squeezing him.

“Of course,” Keith agrees. Then his happiness dims. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get any of the treasure though, for the inn.”

Lance pulls back, smiling manically at him. “Oh, but wait, come see!”

And then he’s tugging Keith across the ship’s deck and down to the kitchen area.

They descend with everyone else in tow, and Keith almost stumbles on the last step when he gets to the kitchen.

It’s packed with vials and crates of Quintessence. At the center of which are magnacuffed Galra. Kosmo is on watch duty.

The wolf runs for him the second he sees them. Keith pets Kosmo idly while looking it all over.

“How did you…?”

“I told you I was strong,” comes Pidge’s voice from the stairs. “While you two idiots were hot-wiring a boat that statistically was doomed to fail, I got the Galra out and had them grab Quintessence on their way.”

“And then she cuffed us,” Axca says, raising her wrists and looking over Keith’s shoulder to Shiro.

Beside her Ezor laughs. “It was quite clever.”

“But it seems I forgot one,” Pidge says and then Keith turns just in time to see her snap cuffs on an unsuspecting Shiro.

“Wait!” Keith holds up his hands before the situation can escalate. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

Shiro and Allura both say his name in distress, their eyes glued on his hands. Keith turns them over to look and _oh, yeah._

Ouch.

##

After bandaging, Keith gives everyone the short version of events just in time for the police to arrive at their ship and start to demand answers. Allura goes up to deal with them, promising that at this time she will not hand off either Shiro or the Galra to authorities.  

It’s enough for Keith, more than enough when both Pidge and Lance begrudgingly allow Shiro to be unhandcuffed. The rest of the Galra complain, but no one else will budge yet, and Keith considers that fair.

After that they all break to treat injuries. Hunk goes back in the healing pod, Kosmo gets another application of burn gel, and Allura is on pain patches. Keith convinces Lance to be the one to call Veronica and tell her they’ve returned.

Shiro refuses to leave his crew, so he stays in the kitchen and starts making sandwiches out of the food that’s made it through all the chaos.

“You know,” Keith says, leaning on the counter and eating his own sandwich. “We can still make that deal with Lotor. It’s not all the treasure, but it’s some of it. He doesn’t have to know how much more of it there was.”

Shiro doesn’t speak, his eyes stay on the food prep. He doesn't look convinced.

“I will vouch for you.” Acxa says. “You led us admirably and did, in fact, find Daibazaal.”

Shiro turns at this to look at Acxa. “Are you sure?”

She nods.

“And if it’s not enough,” Keith says, stepping around the counter to catch Shiro’s hand, “then you still have us. We will get Matt and his dad back. Between you, me, and Pidge, I’m not at all worried.”

A small smile then creeps across Shiro’s lips. Keith wants to kiss him. “Pidge is pretty forceful.”

“She is,” Keith says, leaning in.

There’s a sound of someone clearing their throat then, and Zethrid interrupts, “so no hard feelings, can we take the cuffs off now?”

##

If Keith thought Lance’s hug was brutal, it has nothing on Veronica.

She arrives bright and early the next morning on the first flight off Earth and wakes Keith and Lance by toppling their hammocks.

They try to stand in a tangle of limbs, half awake.

“You pair of absolute idiots!” She shrieks.

Keith closes his eyes expecting violence, but then she just grabs them both and pulls them into a suffocating hug.

“I saw that report about the ship coming in, mysterious debris, and then Lance calls and says you’d _found_ Daibazaal and fought pirates and—“ one of her hands grabs one of Keith’s bandaged ones. “Keith your _hands_!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, we’re fine.” He says, but he stills hugs her tightly in return.

It hasn’t physically been that long that they’ve been gone, but Keith feels the time away in his bones. He’s different now. He feels her arms wrapped around them and for once Keith doesn’t feel like a bother or an afterthought. He knows she cares, about him. Loves him. _Him_ , not Lance's best friend, not a sad orphan. Keith. 

Because they’re family.

He's sorry he ever thought differently.

“Fine,” Veronica lets them both go, but then reaches and tugs at Lance’s ear. He squawks and bats her away. “But somebody was a little stiff on the call, so catch me up, I want to know _everything.”_

Despite their earlier pact, they do.

_##_

Over the next week the ship gets a cleaning, a fueling, a restock. Veronica stays on and helps as they deal with the insurance and get the ship repaired. It's easily done with just a few grams of Quintessence for payment.

Shiro spends most of his time down in the kitchen with the Galra. They’ve been given the leeway of being uncuffed, but only when supervised by Shiro. There’s not many of them left, and certainly all the ones that ran with Sendak curiously didn’t make it off Daibazaal, but Pidge and Allura aren’t willing to extend the trust so far yet.

Keith knows it's coming though.

Despite all the talking that first day, no one said in so many words that the ship would go next to see Lotor. Every day that passes though the Castle of Lions gets stocked for just such a journey.

Pidge has to go, because with her memories restored she refuses to rest until she has her family back. Shiro is, of course, just as tireless. The Galra must go to report back to their prince and financier.

But Allura, Lance, and a back-on-his-feet Hunk, have no reason to take such a trip. After everything, they shouldn’t even want to.

Day after day though, they stay and help and the ship gets closer and closer to travel ready.

Finally it seems the tension of this unspoken thing gets to Shiro, because Keith comes up on deck one morning to Shiro and Allura having a heated discussion.

“It’s dangerous!”

Allura laughs. “Recently I sailed a ship out of a collapsing star.”

“Allura this isn’t—“

“Captain,” she clips, “if you would. And all I’m hearing from you Mr. Shirogane, is that danger is perfectly fine with you if you’re the one causing it or the one steering the ship.”

“I didn’t mean—“

She waves him off. “Yes, yes, we all heard the details from your beau,” her eyes swoop over to Keith and then back. “But I don’t much care to hear further arguments. This ship will sail for Kral Zera, where we will negotiate for the Holts safe return. At such a point we will drop off the Galra crew unless they’d like to return with us to Earth.”

“I don’t understand,” Shiro says.

Allura smiles then, perfect and beautiful in her clean captain’s attire. “It’s really very simple,” she says, and then turns to Keith. “Mr. Kogane, here is your new charge. You’ll keep him busy in the kitchen, won’t you?”

Watching Shiro sputter through this information is almost as good as being able to openly link their hands together as he reaches Shiro. “Aye, Captain.”

Keith starts to pull Shiro away before he can argue any further.

“Send the Galra up,” Allura calls after him. “It’s time to give them some real work.”

Keith grins all the way to the kitchen, tugging a shell-shocked Shiro in his wake.

##

Kosmo poofs into the kitchen the morning of liftoff. Keith turns the oven off and puts his hand on the wolf. They disappear in a flash of light.

Up on deck Allura is shouting orders as they prepare to leave. It’s similar to the first time, except now there’s Pidge who’s working the navigation system, and Hunk walking Lance around the deck to show him how different things work. There’s Veronica with Acxa standing at attention but ready to dash down to the engine room should Allura require it.

And there’s Shiro, above on the mast letting out the sails. When he sees Keith down below he smiles, waves.

It’s still funny to see his former crew take notice. They’re not used to Shiro being anything but stern, and so they still do a double take from time to time.

Keith doesn’t mind. It’s worth it for just how relaxed Shiro has become. Without the burden of having to be _The Champion,_ he’s just Shiro. Hard-headed, black-humored, but sweet-as-a-ginwash-pie Shiro.

So far Shiro’s spent the entirety of the ship’s repair time down with his handcuffed crew, following Allura’s orders. Now that he’s free Keith’s practically chomping at the bit to get him alone.

There have been kisses and groping, but that’s about it. His babysitting duty has left him with little to no privacy.

Keith plans on changing that tonight.

The Galra will return to sleeping in their hammocks via chance at redemption from Allura, and Keith is going to secret Shiro away from his guilt-driven work, and into the old cabin room.

“So now I’m the cabin boy?” Shiro finally speaks when they’re back in the kitchen and the Galra have been sent up.

Keith laughs, pulling Shiro in and encouraging that big metal hand to wrap around his waist.

“And I’m the stuffy authoritarian.”

This gets a laugh out of Shiro too. “Oh yeah?” He says into Keith’s ear, his lips tracing down to Keith’s throat. “You going to boss me around then?”

Keith’s just beginning to throw out the fantasy of the bedroom and let Shiro ravish him right there in the kitchen when there’s a pop and a flash of light.

_Kosmo_.

Shiro pulls away just as the slobbering, happy wolf leaps at them. Shiro catches the overgrown lapdog easily. Keith tries not to feel resentful that his heart is still pounding from what almost was. “It’s good to see you back to teleporting buddy!”

The wolf licks Shiro face, and then tilts his head to offer the note tied around his neck.

“This better be good,” Keith grumps as he takes the bit of parchment.

Shiro is beaming though, a little smug at Keith’s bad attitude. He’ll pay for that later.

“What’s it say?” Shiro asks. He’s holding up Kosmo like a baby. It’s stupidly cute.

Keith reads the note and then rolls his eyes. “Hunk wants Gee Tin for lunch.”

Shiro laughs and then leans over to smack a kiss to Keith’s cheek. “Then we better get started, eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what the kids would call the traditional end of the narrative. Fortunately for you I am delivering a spicy romp for the last chapter. It might take a few more days, I want to make sure it's juuuust right. 
> 
> But that's it for the rest of our cast! Everyone stays on and they go to Lotor who's only a little bit of a jerk and they get the Holt's back. Teamwork!
> 
> Next time: The boys finally have some time alone.


	25. Greatness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags added: anal sex, first time

 Keith catches Shiro just as he’s finishing the dishes. He slides up behind the man and wraps his arms around his waist. “Done for the day cabinboy?” Keith says into the back of his shirt.

Shiro hums. “You tell me, _sir._ ”

Keith bites the meat of his shoulder for the comment. “I think you have one more pressing task.” Keith pushes his hips against Shiro’s meaningfully.

There’s a low sound from Shiro and then the man spins around. His hands capture Keith’s waist and pull them back together.

“And what is that?” Shiro’s smile is devilish, and he lowers it to Keith’s throat.

The desire rises hot and heavy. It’s been so long, so long, and Keith _wants._  

Shiro just brushes his throat, more tease than contact, but it shorts out Keith’s brain. Keith makes a sound and tries to get closer to Shiro.

“Hm?” Shiro breathes just over his pulse point and then his nose nudges Keith’s ear. “What is it that you want kit?”

The shiver that comes is full body. The way Shiro says the pet name now has weight and gravity and it hooks him tight.

“You,” Keith breathes.

The movement happens in an instant. One moment they’re in the kitchen and the next Shiro is tugging him urgently up the stairs.

They get a few eyes from the late night crew as they hurry toward the bunks, but Keith doesn’t care. There’s a silly grin on his face and for once he doesn’t care who sees it. The second the door of Shiro’s cabin closes behind them, Keith’s on him.

The first kiss is too hard, too hungry. They clash and grab at each other, tugging to get closer. The heat rises to sweltering, and Keith can’t breathe, doesn’t even want to. Shiro tastes of ginger like the dinner stew, and sweet like the dried fruits they shared just after. They roll against the wall and Shiro pins him, licking into his mouth.

They’re still wearing too many clothes, still too far from the bed, but Keith can’t find it in him to complain. That spark that’s been there all along now is like a supernova, he’s never felt as close to Shiro as he does right now and it’s _such_ a turn on.

Their tongues slide together and Keith nips him playfully and gets a ticklish curl of fingers on his stomach. He huffs and then Shiro pulls back breathing hard and dives for his throat.

The prior bruising has long since faded and Keith’s eager to get it again. Shiro sucks and bites at him and Keith keens, soft sounds he’s powerless to keep in. It’s better knowing that tomorrow when he’s sore and marked up he doesn’t have to hide it, doesn’t have to pretend it’s anything other than what it is.

_Shiro marking him as his._

Keith’s cock throbs in his pants and he clutches at Shiro, trying to tear at his clothes. He can only imagine how this all will feel when Shiro is inside him—

Shiro pulls off his neck then with a ragged breath.

Keith whines, “Please.”

The hands on him clenches hard for a moment, but when nothing follows Keith opens his eyes. Shiro is staring at him, eyes dark and intent. “I think we should talk,” Shiro says.

The phrase is a dousing of cold, fetid water. “What?”

“No, no, not like that!” Shiro cups his cheek, thumb tracing it delicately. “I just mean about us, about going forward. I’m— I’m really in Keith, but I want to do this right.”

That lets the warmth back into Keith’s belly. Still, he frowns. “Really? Right now?” He illustrates his point by grinding against Shiro. They’re both hard and the tease is delicious.

“Yeah,” Shiro swallows hard, takes a deep breath. Then he leans in and kisses Keith on the cheek just above the new scar. “A lot has happened.” There’s another kiss, so gentle it makes Keith breathless. “You deserve the best, and if I’m still lucky enough that you’re going to settle for me, then I’m going to try as hard as I can.”

Keith can feel the flush across his face, and he covers it was a scowl and a swat at Shiro’s shoulder. “I’m not settling for anything.”

The smile Shiro gives him then is too soft to look directly at. He unpins Keith from the wall and then takes his wrist.

##

They end up lying on their sides in the bed, legs tangled. A concession was made to Keith’s horniness, and they’re both shirtless. Keith idly traces the scars on Shiro’s chest as he talks.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” Shiro says after recounting the story of his time with the Galra in more detail. “I would like to earn it, I would like to be forgiven, but even if what I did was for a good purpose, I still hurt people along the way. You have a right to know that, a right to be hurt or angry. You could walk out of here right now and I wouldn’t even blame you.”

At this Keith grabs Shiro’s metal hand and links their fingers together. He gives the man a look that says, _not on your life._

“I just—“ Shiro looks down at their laced hands and a small smile breaks across his mouth. “There’s something between us, I know you feel that. I hope you feel it as intensely as I do. Part of me says I shouldn’t, that I should give you up because you’re much too good for me, but I’m selfish. It’s been years since there was anything in my life but the mission, and probably longer since there was anything good.” Shiro laughs then a little deprecatingly, “and definitely nothing as good as you.”

Keith said he would stay quiet to let Shiro say his peace, but that’s his line. “ _Stars_ , Shiro!” Keith hisses. “Do you hear yourself? I’m not some great being! In fact, I was pretty messed up when I got on this ship. I’m short tempered, a troublemaker, and I have so many walls I wouldn’t even let Lance close. This,” he gestures between them with their clasped hands, “this is not about deserving, and it’s not about worth. You told me once I can’t make myself accountable for everything that goes wrong, and that goes for you too. You ended up in a bad situation and you made the most of it. Have you done some shitty things? Yes. But I of all people am pretty aware of what you’ve done, and if you respect me, then you should respect that I know what I want and what I will and won’t tolerate. Do I _seem_ like a person who puts up with things I don’t want?”

“No,” Shiro says a little wry.

“Exactly!” Keith prods Shiro’s chest with his free hand. “And sure, maybe there will be issues we will need to work out, hurts that arise from everything, but that’s fine. I’m willing. I feel this,” he squeezes Shiro’s hand. “This is something, and I want to see it through.”

“Even if it ends horribly?” Shiro says.

That makes Keith roll his eyes. “Turn down the melodrama Mr. Pirate.”

Shiro laughs, and it eases the heaviness of the air. “There’s no arguing with you is there?”

Keith hums, pleased with himself. “I may like you bossing me around in bed, but otherwise no, not even you can tell me what to do with the rest of my life.”

Shiro leans in closer and says in a stage whisper, “But Keith, we are in bed.”

“And yet I am still wearing clothes,” Keith snarks, “if only there was some way of rectifying this—“

Shiro tackles him into the bedding with a growl. Keith shrieks.

Their mouths meet easily after a moment of tussling, and Keith gives up holding Shiro’s hand to wrap his own on Shiro’s neck and pull him in.

“You’re a brat,” Shiro says fondly between kisses.

“Wouldn’t be if you hadn’t interrupted the sex with a therapy session.”

Shiro nips him for that, and then licks over it to soothe. “It’s important to me.”

“I know,” Keith says, earnest for once. His nails scratch at the short hair of Shiro’s undercut. “It’s important to me too. But so is this.”

There’s more kissing then, and one of Shiro’s hands moves back down to Keith’s waist and then in, toward the button. “What do you want?”

“I want,” Keith can feel the words on his tongue, but now they’re _real._ He’s sure that this time when he asks, Shiro won’t rebuff him. It makes Keith nervous.

He pulls Shiro in, and when the man's hands return to holding him tightly, Keith is able to get it out. “I want you to fuck me.”

There’s a gasp from Shiro, and then teeth pressing in sharp and delicious on his throat. “I want that too.”

Keith remembers the last time they were like this, the last time he offered. Shiro was smooth with how he sidelined the request, but in retrospect it still stings.

“Then why…?” Keith can’t say it, he just leaves the half question to hang.

Shiro moves out of the crook of his neck and meets his eyes again. “Why last time I wouldn’t?”

Keith nods.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to look at you like that, be that close to you, with all of my secrets between us. You don’t deserve that and... I just thought that was a line I could draw in the sand. I thought if it didn’t get that far then I wouldn’t feel… the way I feel for you.”

Shiro looks away then, his cheeks slightly pink.

“I’m really killing the mood,” Shiro says after a beat of silence.

It couldn’t be farther from the truth. The heat flares just beneath Keith’s skin. The entire script of the last time rewrites itself to something achingly sweet and honorable. Shiro, in one small way, trying to do right by him.

“You’re not,” Keith says. He reaches up and cups Shiro’s sharp chin, and turns it to him. He presses a soft kiss to the bottom lip. “I’m very, very into everything you’re saying.”

Shiro huffs and then shakes his head. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Keith's nails scrape up Shiro’s neck. “So quit stalling.”

They fall together again in kisses. This time Shiro gets a hand between them and starts undoing Keith’s pants.

Keith allows for them to part while they shuck off the last of their clothing. Then it’s just them on the bed, the low lighting of the room tucking them close and private.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro touches his cheek and then throat, finger running over what must be darkening marks. Keith can feel the soreness.

Then those hands start down his body. One hot human, and one metal and cold. It’s almost nothing, but Keith arches into it. He’s falling quickly back into their magnetism, and this time he doesn’t have to hold back.

It’s the same exhilarating fear he feels on a solar sail just at the top of a cliff side looking down. The same as Keith perched right at the tipping point waiting for the right breeze to blow him over.

Shiro has to surrender one arm to propping himself up, but the human hand continues down and smooths over the side of Keith’s bare hips. Keith nearly shivers.

When Keith meets his eyes again they’re alight, watching him. Keith holds that as he reaches down bravely and takes Shiro’s hands. Slowly he moves them across his thigh and then down between his own legs.

“I want,” Keith breathes at the first touch of their hands.

Shiro’s breath comes in a heavy puff. “You’re going to kill me baby.”

There is is again, _baby_. Infinitely more devastating this time. Keith blushes hot.

Their fingers are woven and Shiro keeps them that way as he begins to touch the inside of Keith’s thigh, tracing up to the crease. Instead of back though, Shiro moves up to cup his balls, and then the base of his cock. His nails scratch pleasantly at the hair there.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” Shiro says. "I could just spend the whole night touching you, tracing every line and freckle, committing them to memory."

Keith opens his mouth to say… something, but then their joined hands are moving back down, down and—

A sound of pure need drops from Keith’s lips when Shiro touches his hole.

“Fuck, baby.” Shiro says in awe. He traces the rim and the sensation is electric.

“Please,” it’s all collapsing inside Keith, leaving just the desire, the _need._ “I want you inside me.”

It's Shiro's turn to be speechless. Instead the man just kisses him hard.

Keith tugs him in, swamped by the rising waters. Shiro collapses further on top of Keith, trapping their hands between them. Keith hooks a leg around Shiro’s and meets every hungry kiss.

They fumble with each other too eager and messy, their limbs all tangled. It’s frankly a little bit of a disaster but Keith can’t stop, won’t stop. It’s perfect.

“Keith,” Shiro pulls back but Keith refuses, he’s done with _words._ He licks back into Shiro’s mouth.

There’s a rumbly sound of laughter. “Keith,” Shiro says.

Keith huffs. “ _What_?”

Shiro’s face when he pulls back farther is a delighted smile. He lifts to get their hands unpinned and then leans across Keith to open the bedside drawer. “Just needed to grab the lube,” he says, showing off the tube as the drawer is nudged shut.

Keith gives him a sour expression.

“Don’t pout baby, I’m going to give you what you want.”

Keith pouts a moment longer just so Shiro will press a kiss to the side of his face. Then the man drops the lube down beside them and takes up one of Keith’s hands.

“Now,” Shiro says turning the palm to him and pressing a kiss to it. Keith’s mostly healed by now, but the skin is still fresh and a little sensitive. “You’re always hurting these hands, so why don’t we give them a break?”

Shiro lifts it above Keith’s head. His fingers nudge the headboard and Keith gets a flash of that last time. Shiro must be thinking the same because he gives Keith a knowing look.

“Just hands this time.” His eyes flicker down in what Keith is coming to recognize as Shiro’s shyness. “I don’t want anything between us.” He reaches for Keith’s other hand, kisses the palm, and then pulls it up.

“Okay,” Keith says, swallowing hard. They’ve done this before but now it’s completely different. There’s a bareness to it that’s exciting and frightening. He’s putting himself completely in Shiro’s hands and he _wants_ to, but still the edges are fizzling with fear.

Keith knows what he needs. It’s what he’s needed every time he started to feel unmoored.

“Shiro, can you… touch me?”

They’ve finally synced up, because Keith doesn’t even need to specify that it’s not just sexually. He needs Shiro’s hands anywhere on him, heavy and grounding.

Shiro delivers. He’s holding himself above Keith with the metal arm, but his other immediately grips at Keith’s shoulder and then his hips come down and press Keith into the bed.

They’re both hard and the pressure of it makes them groan. Shiro stays there for a bit, touching him with a firm hand. It’s exactly what Keith needs.

When he opens his eyes, steady once more, Shiro gives him a small smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little ridiculous, I—“ Keith doesn’t quite know how to put it into words. They haven’t even _done_ anything, so Keith doesn’t know why he has these bits of…

“Hey, no.” Shiro says. “You’re not ridiculous. You’re amazing.” He stamps a kiss to Keith’s bow.

“Uh huh.”

“Marvelous. Spectacular. The greatest—“

Keith brings a hand down just to put it over Shiro’s mouth. “Alright, alright. Feeling better now, _thanks.”_

Shiro laughs and then eyes Keith’s hand until it returns to resting above his head. “Good. Then,” Shiro retrieves the bottle of lube and holds it up. “Do you still want—?”

“Yes! Hopefully sometime this millennia.”

Shiro laughs and then proceeds to scoot down to the space between Keith’s legs. He wisely keeps at least one hand as a tight band on Keith’s thigh and it’s… extremely helpful.

“Always wanted to take my time with you,” Shiro says.

Keith goes to roll his eyes but is interrupted by a cool metal hand finally, _finally_ touching his cock.

“Ah!”

Shiro hums and there’s a click of the cap and then the glide of Shiro’s hand gets impossibly smooth. It feels amazing.

“That’s it,” Shiro says. He shuffles but Keith can’t open his eyes, can’t do anything with how his attention has zeroed in on that metal hand wrapped around him. It’s been way too long. With everything, Keith hasn’t even had time with himself.

Shiro strokes him far too slow, but then the human hand, also wet with lube, touch his rim.

There’s no immediate pressure. Shiro just touches him, both wearing down Keith’s spike of sensitivity, and turning his belly molten. It goes on like that for a little while. Shiro’s fist slow but firm on his cock, and the other playing with his rim.

Keith can’t help but fidget a little. His hands wrap around the bar of the headboard to help him with how good it feels.

Just as Shiro begins to press inside him, the words come tumbling out.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Shiro freezes.

Keith opens his eyes, horrified at himself. He doesn't know why he just said that. It's literally the worst thing to tell someone in the middle of sex. Keith is an _idiot_. He looks down at Shiro, to see him watching him. “All of it…?” Shiro’s voice is strange and Keith doesn’t know what it means. He feels embarrassed.

“No. Uh, everything before I’ve done. This is… new. Just this. I didn’t meant to say it. You can just ignore—“

Keith’s cut off by Shiro surging up to kiss him, two sticky hands cupping his face with infinite tenderness.

“Keith,” he whispers to his lips and then kisses him again. “Thank you for telling me.”

Keith swallows hard. It's not the response he would have expected. “Yeah, I just— is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says touching their foreheads together and breathing heavily. “Yeah baby, that’s more than okay. It’s really fucking hot, you— I— you drive me crazy. Everything about you just does it for me. And I like that you can be honest with me.”

Keith can feel his cheeks burning. He pecks Shiro on the lips. “Same.”

“Fuck,” Shiro says it with that same off tone. Except Keith can see it for what it is now, how Shiro is struggling to contain himself.

Keith takes that and wields it for his own bravery. He licks his lips, coyly catching Shiro’s eye. His hips rise and grind up against Shiro like a full body wave. They both groan. “Then will you,” Keith whispers in the following silence, “be my first?”

Keith can see it hit like a physical blow. Shiro’s cock pressed up against his belly throbs and Shiro takes a gulp of air.

In a flash Shiro's moved back down between Keith’s legs. He hoists Keith's thighs up onto his shoulder and promptly swallows down Keith’s cock.

Keith cries out, and then again at the finger that starts pushing into him. It reminds him of the lube still smeared on the sides of his face.

It absolutely shouldn’t work, because Shiro is a little bit of a disaster, a little bit all over the place. None of it has gone at all how Keith thought this bedroom tryst would, but there’s still butterflies in his stomach and a wonderful pleasure crawling up his spine.

_Everything about you just does it for me._

Keith has never agreed with anything more.

Shiro presses one finger all the way in. It’s a strange sensation to have someone else do it. Keith’s fingered himself enough, but there’s a dual feedback loop when he does so. Now it’s out of his control and he’s being pulled between two different sensations: Shiro bobbing his head, tongue swirling as he sucks Keith like an absolute _god,_ and the two fingers now dipping inside him.

If anything, it’s not enough _._ Shiro’s still being careful with him, gentle even, and it’s tangling Keith up. He doesn’t need it _precious_ he needs—

“More,” he groans, clenching at the headboard. His hips are beginning to move on their own, a undecided rhythm between Shiro’s mouth and hands.

Shiro pulls off him. “Your word?”

Keith’s eyes flicker open and he looks down. Shiro has his metal hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the oozing tip just near his lips.

_Fucking hell._

Keith’s brain stalls for a moment, completely forgetting the question. Shiro smirks and then rubs the head of Keith’s cock across his bottom lip.

“Keith?” He says with a puff of air that makes Keith shiver.

“Uh.” Word. What word? Then his higher brain function kicks in and saves him, “Kosmo.”

“Perfect.”

Shiro puts his mouth back on Keith’s cock, and Keith only has a moment to shout, to warn that maybe he’s too close—

But Shiro presses in with three fingers, hitting his prostate, and Keith is lost.

The words fall apart into sounds of pleasure. Keith comes down Shiro’s throat, and just the _thought_ of it twists the feeling deeper, makes the orgasm last longer.

Shiro works him through it steadily, mumbling his own sounds of appreciation as Keith begins to fold back down into the bed, gasping for air. Shiro pulls his mouth off, but leaves his fingers still inside Keith.

“Fuck, fuck,” Keith says as soon as the dazzle begins to fade and language reappears. “I didn’t meant to— I wanted to when you were inside me.”

The metal hand smooths down Keith’s thigh and back up, firm. “You will,” Shiro says.

Their eyes meet and Keith can see something of the pirate in Shiro. The spark and wiliness that promises both danger and excitement. Keith sighs in relief at having not fucked it all up. “Okay,” he says.

Shiro’s fingers start moving again.

He goes back to slow, but the metal hand keeps Keith firm and patient as he works in three fingers. Shiro knows how to handle him, and Keith trusts him to.

That’s what it’s really about.

Finally Shiro proves satisfied enough because he pulls his fingers out and then sits up.

Keith can’t help but look at Shiro's cock then. It's much more flushed than it was earlier, and sticky from being pressed into the bed.

Shiro quickly gets a pillow under his ass and then settles himself between Keith’s legs.

“Oh,” he says looking over Keith’s face. Then he tugs a corner of the bed sheets over and wipes the lube off Keith. “Sorry.”

Keith bites his lip to try and quell the overly fond smile. “S’fine.”

Shiro smiles back at him, and then clicks the cap open to get more lube for himself. “Yes?”

Keith nods and then, “Can I…?” He tilts his head up to motion at his hands. He liked it, but he can’t imagine not touching Shiro while this happens. He doesn’t want to just feel overwhelmed, he wants them to go down together.

“Whatever you need,” Shiro says.

There’s some more adjustments then as Shiro guides both their bodies into place. He kisses Keith softly when he's finished and Keith wraps his arms around Shiro.

Shiro’s cock presses to his hole and then in.

Keith has to kiss him then even if the angle is bad. They’re both sweaty and a little sticky, but Shiro’s mouth when it meets his is wonder. Shiro pushes in more, his cock huge and hot. Keith breaks the kiss with a cry.

“Fuck,” Shiro swears, hands like vices as he finally bottoms out. The word is a smear between them.

“Fuck me,” Keith says.

Shiro has to pull back for it, so Keith lets him go. He stretches himself out in the bed like an offering, watching Shiro watch him.

The man looks completely awestruck. His hands are on Keith’s hips, holding him tight and motionless. Keith watches him swallow hard and then.

Then he moves.

It starts slow, just a rocking, but it burns Keith right through. He whines, fisting the sheets first and then putting his nails to Shiro’s sides.

A babble of gibberish falls from Keith's mouth as Shiro rocks against that spot inside him. It's all praise and curses and pleas for more. He doesn’t know exactly what he's saying, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters as long as Shiro keeps moving.

And Shiro does, faster every moment until he has to let go of Keith to grab the bedding and fuck into him hard. It only makes Keith hold on harder.

It’s electric then, both of them rising and catching on one another. Keith scratches and Shiro bites, and they come together with the slick sound of pleasure.

“ _Shiro_ ,” Keith wails as the edge starts to near.

“Yeah,” Shiro grunts, panting as his hips thrust hard. “Come on baby, just let go. Let me see you come.”

Keith’s whole body tenses at that, and Shiro makes a strangled noise as he fucks in. “I’m—“

“Yeah,” Shiro kisses the side of his arm, eyes on Keith’s. “That’s it. Just let go. I’ve got you.”

The pleasure rises up to meet those words, the edge of too much and not enough. Keith moves to meet Shiro’s thrusts, madness and possession all at once, making tiny sounds as he chases the feeling that’s rolling in his veins.

And then, between one breath and another, Keith is up over the edge and tumbling head over heels. His heart thunders and he moans Shiro’s name as he comes.

Between them it's a hot mess of pulses that drown Keith. He squirms with it, holding tight as Shiro fucks him through it, as Shiro’s rhythm finally falls apart.

Keith feels the first pulse of Shiro come just as his own orgasm is beginning to peter out. Shiro says his name like a prayer, and it’s so hot Keith gets another zip of pleasure through his body.

Shiro slows as his orgasm dwindles and then his body starts collapsing down. Keith grins a small private smile to himself when the full weight of Shiro presses down on him. The man above him groans in contentment.

There’s a few beats of nothing then where Keith just stares at the ceiling, his body sore and completely sated while Shiro recovers.

He almost can’t believe what just happened. That they _finally—_

It’s not just the sex. It’s never been just the sex. Keith knows that now with a certainty he couldn’t have before. Now with his libido out of the way he knows that what is between them is more than just a romp. Later, when the rest of the chemical trip fades, Keith knows he will still feel this. With Shiro he's like a magnet pulled true north. Still a burning star, but with direction, purpose.

Shiro takes a deep, whuffing breath against his neck and then pushes up to collapse down beside Keith.

“You’re going to think I’m lying,” Shiro says, and his voice is completely wrecked, “but that was the best sex of my life.”

Keith laughs, a little too punch drunk and pleased with himself. Shiro’s hair is an absolute mess and there’s nail scores just peaking over his sides. “Yeah.”

“I swear it though,” Shiro says and then coughs. “ _Stars_ , I need water.”

“I believe you, I meant I agree.”

Shiro was just turning to get up, but this draws him back. He looks at Keith like he just hung the sun.

“Keith,” he says suddenly serious. “Keith, no one should ever make any declarations during or right after sex, but I want you to know you are making it _incredibly_ difficult.”

Keith’s heart leaps at that. _Declarations?_ “Like what?” He asks.

Shiro shakes his head with a fond look but scooches closer to take up Keith’s hands. “Like you’re the greatest, most marvelous—“

Keith tackles him back into the bed, trying to free his hands to cover Shiro’s mouth as the other man laughs.

They tussle just a moment and get nowhere and then their bodies remind them of all the recent physical activity.

“We should… clean.” Shiro gestures between the two of them. Come and lube and sweat is _everywhere_. It would be disgusting if Keith weren’t so head over heels.

“Think we both could fit in the shower?”

Shiro immediately sits up, tugging Keith along with him. “I’d certainly be willing to try.”

##

In the end there is a clumsy shower and a lazy make-out sessions after they replace the sheets on the bed.

Keith’s cheeks are sore by the time Shiro turns down the lights for them to go to bed.

“So we’re doing this?” Keith says as Shiro curls up behind him and tucks an arm over his waist.

Shiro hums and kisses his neck. There’s a soreness there that’s just perfect. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Does that make me a pirate or you an honest man?”

Shiro squeezes him. “That makes me incredibly, incredibly lucky.”

Shiro’s turns into earnestness always crushes Keith’s heart in the best way.

“And after Lotor? After the Holts?” Maybe Keith shouldn’t bring it up in the blissful afterglow, but he wants to know. Shiro said no declarations, and Keith feels that’s a good policy as they relearn each other, but he wants to know that they’ll have the time. Time to get to _declarations_.

“After that I’m with you. And after the after I’m with you. Whatever you want to do.”

“Good.”

Shiro nuzzles him. “Anyway, with the whole treasure business we haven’t even had time to get into that _very_ curious sword of yours Keith. Certainly after Lotor we should look at that.”

“My sword?”

“Mmhm. I’ve seen a sword like it before in the pits. Actually, you met the man with the sword. Ulaz. He uh—“ Shiro stops then.

Between the two of them there are a lot of landmine topics, but Keith never wants to shy away from them. What happened, happened, and if they're going to move forward it's going to be with the truth. Keith doesn't want to give Shiro any reason to think he's in denial about what Shiro's done or who he was.

“He died," Keith says.

There's a pause and then, “He saved me. Back in the pits.” That part Shiro had left out of the earlier retelling. Keith can feel the weight of the confession now. “I tried to return the favor, but the crew knew I was soft on him and he had the map, so they shot at his ship even when I ordered them not to…”

Shiro doesn't go on.

A few more things slot into place for Keith. “That’s why you were so hard on me.”

Shiro takes a deep breath and the hand around Keith’s waist curls to hold him tighter. “I couldn’t risk it. My best position was always as the _Champion,_ because then at least I could control the violence, even if I hated it.”

Keith turns then in his arms to look at Shiro in the low lighting. He touches the mans face, tracing the lines at the edges of his eyes. “Its all going to be different now.”

Shiro kisses his hand tenderly. “I don’t care how it is, so long as it’s with you.”

Keith’s heart thumps. "That's dangerously close to a declaration."

Shiro's thumb touches the scar on his cheek. "I know."

The smile that breaks over Keith's face then must be great, because Shiro tugs him in and kisses him fondly.

When Keith eventually settles down to sleep that night, it's to the gentle hum of the ship sailing through space, and Shiro's soft, deep breaths. Not everything has been made right yet, but as Keith slips down into his dreams, he knows that it will be.

He knows that he will make it so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after. *throws confetti and falls over*
> 
> I hope you all loved this, and if you did please leave me a comment because I adore them!!!
> 
> This fic goes out to Treasure Planet which is truly a beautiful film. I was inspired to write it by some Keith Treasure Planet fanart. I will be retweeting them on my twitter @an_aphorism, so pop on over if you want to see some amazing art!!


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